


Pranks

by Aelimir



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelimir/pseuds/Aelimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prank wars on the Enterprise! What started out as an innocent attempt to lift Captain Kirk's spirits will soon spiral out of control. Who will get the last laugh? There are serious elements in the story to help keep them in character.</p>
<p>Can be read as pre-slash Kirk/Spock or platonic, whichever you prefer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Computer Prank

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pranks](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/15438) by Smenzer. 



> Hello Everyone! This is my first attempt at a humor story. In large part it is inspired by "Pranks" by Smenzer in the Star Wars category at fanfiction dot net. I laughed until I cried in many parts, and I hope this is at least half as funny.

"Spock," said Dr. McCoy. "I'm concerned about the Captain. He's been so tense lately. He could use a shore leave but he refuses to take one. I've been trying to get him to loosen up, and I was wondering if you could do the same."

"Doctor, I am a Vulcan. I do not make people 'loosen up.' I do not understand his illogical behavior, and can be of no help."

"Damn it, Spock! We have to do something! Surely your keen Vulcan intellect can comprehend that! Or is humor beyond you? I bet you wouldn't recognize humor if it danced naked in front of you wearing a tea cozy!"

Spock raised an eyebrow in response. "I have no use for humor or dancing tea kettles."

"I knew it! Humor is beyond you, Spock. Just as helping the Captain is beyond you. Well, next time he needs help, I know not to ask you!"

"If you ask me, he is not the only one in a bad mood," mused Spock before he wisely made his escape. Sometimes humans could be so incomprehensible. Exactly 2.5 minutes and 402 steps later, he was back on the bridge, making his way back to his station.

"SPOCK! Where have you been?! There's something on our scanners and you weren't here to analyze it!" demanded the Captain.

"Captain, I was doing my routine physical examination with Dr. McCoy," replied Spock in a somewhat puzzled tone. Now that the doctor had pointed it out, Jim's behavior was even more obviously agitated.

"All right, Mr. Spock. Just get to your job!" snapped the Captain right back.

Spock turned back to his station with a slight frown. Although of course he had no emotions about this, it was admittedly somewhat inefficient on the Captain's part to have his emotions cloud his thinking to the point of making assumptions and forgetting facts. McCoy had said something about getting him to 'loosen up', or see the humorous side of things. Humor that was apparently beyond him. Well, there was nothing the computer couldn't solve. He would ask it tonight in his quarters what humans did to loosen each other up.

4.3 hours later, he sat at his computer console and addressed the computer. "Computer, give me the definition of "loosen up."

"Working. It means to become less tense, less formal, or less restrained and assume a friendlier manner."

"What are common things humans do to loosen each other up?"

"Tell a humorous anecdote or remark intended to provoke laughter. Act in a funny or teasing way. Engage in a ludicrous act done for fun and amusement."

"Give me an example."

"For instance, a prank. You could play a trick on one to make one laugh."

"What kind of trick?"

"There are many kinds of pranks. For instance, computer program pranks, whoopie cushions, the toilet paper roll prank, the - "

"Stop." The young Vulcan paused a moment, thinking. If the negative emotion equaled a certain negative number, and a certain amount of laughter equaled a positive number, then it stood to reason that if he provoked enough laughter out of his captain he would balance out to his normal self. How exactly did one pull a prank? That was a problem. He had the impression it involved some kind of deceit. He couldn't do that. Yet, humans enjoyed it. It was not logical. "Computer, is there a guide to pranking?"

"Yes. There is a PADD in the library. 'Pranks for Dummies.' It will tell you all you need to know."

"I am not a 'dummy.' Therefore it can not be for me. Tell me a PADD I can have."

"You can have this PADD. The term 'Dummy' is part of the joke."

Spock raised his eyebrow. The other one soon joined it, then he sighed lightly. It was all very incomprehensible, but he would try to solve this equation of the Captain's emotions. Without delay he set out and retrieved the correct PADD before sitting back down at his desk.

The first prank had to do with computers. Apparently, one programmed the computer to emit a burping sound at regular intervals on the intended target's computer. The harder it was for the target to get rid of the sound, and the higher the quality of the burp, the better the prank was considered to be. He did not foresee any problems with this prank, as the programming was simple and infecting the Captain's computer with it would be easy. However, he was aware that having his computer burp could be embarrassing for the Captain if someone else was around to believe it was him instead. So he would have to alter the programming so that it would only burp when the Captain was by himself with his computer.

Spock had the program finished within minutes and had it ready to infect the Captain's computer. Now all he needed was the sound. He needed to find the highest quality burp there was. Perhaps if he looked in the Guinness Log of Galactic Records, he would find something. He chose to listen to the audio recordings provided. The most recent record holder emitted a burp so loud, deep and long that he felt sure it could have only been made by a Klingon. He raised his eyebrow when it had finally ended. He was quite sure there was nothing of higher quality. Seconds later, the sound was attached to the program and activated in the Captain's personal computer. Spock hoped this would solve the equation. He would have to observe carefully to see how it all balanced out.

*****

Jim sighed with irritation as he left the bridge. Another boring day. Nothing interesting had happened in the past few weeks and his life was beginning to feel like a boring routine in between mounds of PADD work. Speaking of which, he had to get back on his computer to work on some more PADDs. Just the way he wanted to spend his evening. On days like this, being a Starship Captain just wasn't all it was cracked up to be!

He sat down with another grumpy sigh and started reading on his computer the latest changes in Starfleet Regulations. His eyes glazed over slightly. Watching paint dry would be more entertaining than this. He was in the middle of some minute and inane changes to dress code when a horrendous sound nearly made him fall out of his seat.

"BURP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

His jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out. "What was THAT?!" he wondered out loud to himself with some alarm. That had been quite the atrocious sound. If he didn't know better, he'd say someone had let out the burp of the century. Seconds passed and he heard nothing more. He frowned. Perhaps he was tired and had merely imagined it? Shrugging it off, he went back to reading the paragraph on the altered color code of the Starfleet uniform.

He had just relaxed back into a sleepy stupor when he heard it again and fell out of his chair for real this time.

"BURP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Jim clutched at his wildly beating heart. He was sure he had not imagined it this time! Someone had let out the biggest burp he'd ever heard in his life in close vicinity to him! He was not sure who he knew that would be capable of such a sound. A Klingon, maybe, but he knew for a fact there were none on the ship. Spock would pick it up on his scanners and inform him immediately. What was it, then? He cautiously looked around his quarters. There really weren't many places to hide in his quarters so his search didn't take long. Nothing.

"Hmmmm....what could it be?" He stood there, deep in thought for a minute, before his musings were interrupted yet again.

"BURP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jim jerked around towards the burping sound that seemed to be more of an eruption than anything else. It was coming from his computer! "What in the world....? Why would my computer be burping? And not just burping! That is the biggest, deepest, longest burp I have ever heard in my life! It's like a volcano erupting!"

Jim sat down by the computer's speakers and waited. He wanted to verify one more time that it really was his computer before he took action. Sure enough....

"BURP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" came directly from his computer's speakers.

As his First Officer would say, there was now a logical course of action to take. "Kirk to Computer Programming. I am having a problem with my computer that I am unsure of how to fix."

"Yes, Captain. What seems to be the problem?"

"It's burping."

Laughter erupted on the other end before the connection was cut.

Well. The technician seemed to think he was joking. Oh well, he could always call Spock. He would take him seriously. For the first time, Jim felt appreciative of the fact that his friend did not understand jokes. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here," Spock replied. By his estimation, the Captain's computer should have burped four times by now. Was he about to see the result?

"Spock, my computer is burping and I don't know how to get it to stop."

"Captain, computers cannot burp. In order to burp, it would need lungs, vocal chords, the ability to breathe and expel air forcefully - "

"Yes, I know, what I'm saying is, it is apparently playing an audio track at regular intervals of someone burping. And not just burping! It's more like an eruption! I've never heard anything like it, it's monstrous!"

"Would you say it is amusing, Captain?" asked Spock innocently.

"Well, yes, I suppose it would be, if I weren't trying to get work done. Not that reading about the new dress code is all that exciting. Anyway Spock, could you please come down and see what you can do?"

"Yes, Captain, I shall investigate the matter for myself," agreed Spock. He cut the connection and frowned to himself. According to his prank book, the Captain should not be let off that easily. It needed to be more of a struggle to get rid of it, and be on the computer at least a couple hours. No more than a day, however, as the book warned that if a prank was overdone, it would get old and the amusement factor would wane. "A delicate science, this pranking is," he mused to himself as he pressed the buzzer to the Captain's quarters.

"Spock! Thank goodness. It just burped again about fifteen seconds ago. You'll hear it again in a minute or two."

"Yes Captain." So Spock sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. He realized the computer would not burp as long as he was there, because he had programmed it so it would not burp unless the Captain was alone. "Captain. I do not hear the computer burping. Perhaps it is finished?"

Jim glanced up at Spock. For a moment, he thought he caught something strange in his expression. It couldn't be guilt, could it? Never in a million years would Spock have anything to do with anything like this! Shrugging off the feeling, he replied, "Perhaps you're right, Spock. You may go back to your quarters."

Dutifully Spock got up and left. Jim watched him go and went back to work. Now he was reading the updated rules about the materials used for the metal plating on the Starship's exterior. Idly he wondered if they would ever find a substance like his carbomite that would make other ships hesitate to attack. He was lost in his reminiscence of his latest carbomite maneuver when he was jolted out of his thoughts again.

"BURP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel faint stirrings of amusement. This was truly a strange problem to have. "Kirk to Spock. My computer has not finished burping."

Spock heard a bit of a laugh in Jim's voice. He had succeeded. "Then I will examine your computer and see if I can get it to stop burping, Captain."

"Very well. Come to my quarters immediately. Kirk out."

Spock once again found himself standing in front of Jim's door. The book had been quite clear that the target of the prank should not know who pranked him. Therefore, he could not tell his Captain that he had infected his computer with the sound. He entered and sat at Jim's desk when Jim gestured to do so. Within seconds he found the program. "I have found the problem, Captain. It seems that your computer was infected with a program that played the recording of the record holder for the best burp from the Guinness Log of Galactic Records. It was set to play at selected intervals, but only when you were alone. Therefore, that it why it would not play for me."

"I wouldn't doubt it was the record holder! You should have heard it, Spock! But who in the world would infect my computer with that program? And why?"

"Unknown, Captain. However, it does seem to fall under the strange human custom sometimes referred to as a 'prank.' I do not believe it was malicious."

"A prank?" Jim considered this. "Well, no harm done, Spock. Thanks for fixing it. Have a good night."

"Good night, Jim," said Spock. He turned to go. Now he would observe and see if that had set things back into balance. If not, he would need to consult that prank book again for another idea.

As Jim sank into his pillows that night, his last sleepy thoughts were, "I wonder what that Klingon ate that made him burp so big."


	2. McCoy's Disease

Jim lounged in his captain's chair and drummed his fingers as he contemplated the strange dream he'd had last night. The Klingons were attacking the Enterprise, and he'd ordered Sulu to fire. However, instead of firing, the Enterprise belched so hard the Klingons were blasted away. Then he found himself receiving the Guinness Log of Galactic Records award for best burp on behalf of the Enterprise. The dream ended with his thought that no Klingon was going to beat his ship in any way! He smiled to himself at the absurdity of it all.

Spock had been closely monitoring the Captain's mood and noticed his smile. Apparently, his prank had been highly effective. Overall, the Captain seemed much more easygoing this morning than he had yesterday. It seemed the doctor's gloomy prognosis about his skills in this area were incorrect. Speaking of the doctor, he was still crabby and inefficient with him today. Perhaps he needed to be pranked as well. Spock contemplated this on and off for the rest of his shift. It seemed like the logical thing to do, seeing how successful he had been the first time and how more efficient things were now with the captain. He just needed a good idea.

When his shift ended, he immediately went to consult his book, "Pranks for Dummies." He scanned many ideas for pranks before he hit upon one that he thought would be appropriate for a doctor. It involved creating a red dye and making dots with it all over the target's skin while they were asleep. Apparently, the more convincing the symptoms the better the prank was.

This was going to be harder than the first one, however, he did not believe it would be too difficult for him. He was, after all, the cleverest and most resourceful being on board. First he would need a good quality dye. It had to be a dark red and resistant to washing and scrubbing. It would also be better if it irritated the skin slightly. He would also need to get McCoy sleepy somehow. A nerve pinch would be too obviously traced to him, so he had to be more creative. Spock spent the next hour making the necessary concoctions. Unfortunately, his sleeping solution might give McCoy a slight headache when he woke up. However, it would only lend credibility to the disease, which could only be a good thing.

He checked the chronometer. It was too late to do the prank today. He would do it tomorrow.

****************

That same night, Jim was once again at his computer reading Starfleet Regulations. His computer stayed mercifully silent so he got plenty of work done. Even so, the silence gnawed at him. Who in the world had made his computer burp? Spock didn't seem to know. He'd been too grateful that it had ended to think to ask him to find out. It was a mystery and, as he'd told the man with that salt sucking shape shifter, he did not like mysteries. However, he did not want to have Spock spend time looking into it. Spock had many important things to do and would not like being bothered about such a silly situation. He would have Computer Programming look into it. After making the request to them, he went to sleep.

The next day, Spock kept alert for an opportunity to carry out his prank. He monitored McCoy's schedule closely. His moment came when McCoy called him down to help him with some analysis in the lab. Spock casually set out his sleeping concoction. McCoy would feel sleepy within minutes as long as he stayed in the same room. As a Vulcan, Spock himself was immune to it.

It did not take long, since it was later in the day and McCoy was a bit tired to begin with. "You know, Spock, I'm exhausted," he commented. "I think I'll go take a nap."

"Very well, Doctor, I shall finish this for you," said Spock.

McCoy was so tired he didn't bother to go to his quarters. He crashed on one of the beds in sickbay and was out instantly. After making sure he was alone, Spock disposed of the sleeping solution and got out his special red dye in the dropper. With surgical precision, he made red dots at regular intervals all over the doctor's face, hands, stomach, neck, chest, feet, and calves. Satisfied with his work, he disposed of the dye and made his way out.

"Mr. Spock, what is on your hand?" asked a voice.

Spock turned, and saw Nurse Chapel standing there with a concerned expression. He glanced down and saw he'd gotten some red spots on his hand. In his haste to finish his job, he must have been a bit careless. "Nothing to worry about, Miss Chapel. It will go away presently." He would stop by his quarters with the antidote to get it off.

Miss Chapel did not look like she was convinced, but went on her way anyway. Spock was glad she didn't question him. Now he would finish the lab work and clean his hand. Then he would monitor McCoy's reaction. It could prove to be fascinating.

************

McCoy woke to a moderate headache. As he got up, he became aware of a slight itchy feeling all over. Then he caught sight of his hands. "Oh my God," he gasped. He rushed to a mirror and saw, to his horror, that he was covered in spots! "I've caught some strange disease! Some mutation of measles! What if it's contagious?!"

He put himself on loudspeaker throughout the ship. "This is Dr. McCoy speaking. I have an unknown disease. I am evacuating sickbay until I know if it is contagious. Please do not approach sickbay and decontaminate if you have been there recently. Thank you."

Spock listened to the announcement in complete fascination. He couldn't believe that the doctor had fallen for it! He had the entire ship in lock down because of some dye on his skin! That was something he had not foreseen. He would never understand the human tendency to panic.

Jim's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Kirk to Sickbay. McCoy, are you all right?"

"Yes Captain. I seem fine for the moment, other than a slight headache, but I sure don't look fine! I'm covered with spots! It's terrible. I have no idea how I got it. I was rather tired and took a nap, and then I woke up looking like this. I'm going to run some tests and see what I can find."

"Keep me apprised of the situation. Let me know the moment you find something. Kirk out." Jim switched off the communicator and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He'd wanted excitement, now he'd gotten it, but not quite the kind he'd wanted. He hoped his friend would be okay.

*********

McCoy took a thorough shower, then ran some blood tests. They revealed absolutely nothing. He did numerous scans with his equipment, which only showed mild skin irritation. His other symptom, his headache, was growing. The spots weren't fading; if anything, they seemed to be getting worse!

"Dr. McCoy. This is Nurse Chapel speaking. You said you're covered in spots?"

"Yes, they're itchy and I have a headache!" said McCoy crossly.

"Mr. Spock had some red spots on his hand earlier, but when I saw him later, they were gone. Perhaps Vulcans have special immunity? I thought knowing this might help you in your research."

"Mr. Spock got it? No one else got it from him?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Thank you, Christine. I'll keep that in mind. So far I've turned up nothing. Scans and blood tests come back negative. I'm going to run more tests to see what I can find. McCoy out." So, Mr. Spock had it for a short period. Maybe it was something in the lab.

McCoy spent all night in the lab, running tests on himself and the substances that he and Mr. Spock had analyzed earlier. It was possible that something they had interacted with had caused it. Despite numerous hypotheses and every diagnostic test known to man, he still turned up nothing!

Finally, at 0600 hours, after a long night with no sleep or rest, a very vexed McCoy thought to do a skin analysis of one of his red spots. It was a complete shot in the dark, but what else could he do at this point? He certainly didn't want to go around looking like a polka dotted monster! He had to do something!

As he looked over the results, he first thought he was so tired, he couldn't be reading them right! He read it again, and it remained the same. Apparently, someone had used a specially altered dye to make the red spots all over him! It was very cleverly done. Not many people he knew would be capable of it. He would never have thought someone would do that to him! And Mr. Spock had had it too....

One by one, the pieces clicked into place in McCoy's overly tired brain. Mr. Spock had done this! Mr. Spock was out there, knowing it was just dye, and had let him go all night trying to figure it out! "Why that pointy-eared, green-blooded son of a bitch!" hissed McCoy. He couldn't believe that that unfeeling Vulcan had done such a thing! He was probably laughing his head off behind that stoic mask! Well! He was not here for Spock's amusement! "I'm a doctor, not a court jester!"

He stormed over to the communicator. "Captain, I know what time it is, but I don't care! I request that you get down here immediately!" He switched it off with a furious snap. He would tell Jim exactly what he thought of that sneaky friend of his!

Jim arrived within minutes, looking somewhat disheveled. "Yes, Bones? You've determined that it's not contagious?"

"Contagious!" McCoy nearly shouted. "Jim, your charming First Officer did this to me!"

Jim gave him a completely disbelieving look, and stifled a laugh. "What makes you think that?"

"It's not a disease! It's dye. A cleverly made dye, too! He altered it so it is impossible to wash or wear off, and it's itchy! He was the last one with me before I fell asleep, and Nurse Chapel said she saw the dye on Spock's hands! And Spock hasn't said a word! There can be only one conclusion, Jim. That green blooded son of a bitch did this to me! I spent all night trying to figure this out, and he let it go on! I demand that -"

"Now Bones, calm down. I understand you're upset, but remember, this is Spock we're talking about here. It does all sound suspicious, but I can't think of any reason why he would do that to you. It's just not in his nature to prank people." Jim stopped, thinking of his own prank two days before. "I was pranked too. Someone programmed my computer to burp, and Mr. Spock set it right. I really think we have a prankster on board and it isn't Mr. Spock."

"Well, it all seems mighty suspicious to me," countered McCoy stubbornly. Then he blinked. "Your computer was burping?"

"Yes. Quite big burps too. It was a recording of the record holder from the Guinness Log of Galactic Records. Not a sound you would make in polite company, and I simply cannot imagine Mr. Spock doing that to me."

"Well - "

Then they were interrupted by the communicator. "Dr. McCoy? Is the Captain there?"

"Yes, Kirk here," said Jim.

"You wanted me to notify you when I figured out who planted that program into your computer. Well, I couldn't sleep so I decided to have another crack at it. There is only one possible person who could have done it."

"Yes?" said Jim eagerly. The mystery was about to be solved!

"Mr. Spock, sir."

Dead silence ensued as the two of them stared at each other. "Thank you. Kirk out." He shut off the communicator in a bit of a daze. Mr. Spock? What in the world? "Seems we've found our prankster," he whispered. "But I still can't believe it. He must have a reason!"

"Well, I believe it. Always said it was damn unnatural for him to have no emotions. I say they're finally surfacing and he's cracked. There's no other explanation why he'd suddenly be..." McCoy's voice faded as his conversation a couple days ago with Spock came back to him. He'd told him to help the Captain loosen up a bit because he'd been so tense lately. Then, apparently Spock went off and programmed Jim's computer to burp. Was that his strange way of accomplishing what he himself had challenged Spock to do?

"What, Bones? Have you thought of something?"

"Yes, but I still don't believe it," he admitted. "I think he thought he was doing you some good. And it's possible that he thought the same for me. I was concerned about you and had a chat with him about it. Challenged him to help you loosen up a bit." He smiled apologetically.

"I know, I was a little irritable for awhile. Go on."

"Well, that Vulcan doesn't understand jokes. I'm betting he researched them and thought this is what I meant. Which is definitely not what I meant, and he is by no means off the hook!"

"You may be right, Bones. The question is, what do we do now?"

"Well, I'm making the antidote for this dye. Then I'm getting some sleep. After that, I'm kicking that goddamn Vulcan's ass!"

"Well..." Jim paused, thinking. He could confront Spock directly. He could ignore this and risk getting pranked again. Or... "I have a better idea. We prank him back."

The light came on in McCoy's eyes. "Yes! Brilliant! Beat him at his own game. We'll teach him not to mess with us! What do you have in mind? We have to come up with something good, or that Vulcan won't even know he's being pranked."

A slow smile spread across Jim's face. "I know just the thing. We'll have to work together to pull it off. I'll keep him busy while you set up the prank in his quarters."

"What exactly will I be setting up?"

"Get some sleep, and I'll show you," bargained Jim. McCoy looked like he wanted to stop at nothing to do it right now, and he wanted his friend to sleep.

"Fine. But it better be good!"

"It will be," promised Jim. "I'll be on the bridge."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim walked to the bridge, smiling slightly to himself as he thought about what he had planned for Spock. McCoy would not be disappointed. He glanced briefly at Spock as he settled into his chair. The Vulcan looked completely innocent and oblivious to what was going on. "I'm sure you'll be happy to know, Spock, that McCoy has found the antidote to his disease. He is currently resting and will be back on duty tomorrow."

"I am delighted, Captain, to hear that he is better," said Spock in an even tone, his face an unreadable mask. "I am also relieved to know that sickbay is no longer in quarantine."

"Yes. So am I," said Jim, still scrutinizing Spock carefully for any telltale signs of his involvement. The only indicator that something was out of the ordinary was the fact that Spock did not seem interested in what the antidote was. "He did not look good with spots."

Spock raised an eyebrow as he recalled the image. "No, he did not."

"He did not? I thought you didn't see him when he was in spots, because he was in quarantine?" probed Jim, trying to trap Spock into admitting what he'd done.

"What I meant to say, Captain, was that the mental image of Dr. McCoy covered in red spots is somewhat disquieting."

"Yes, I see." Jim shot him a look that clearly said he didn't believe him. "Very well, Mr. Spock. Carry on."

"Yes, Captain." Spock turned back to his console.

Jim smiled to himself, decided to let it go. After all, he would certainly get his revenge later. He couldn't wait. Spock would never see it coming!


	3. Tag, You're It!

Later on that same day, when Jim had decided that McCoy had enough time to get some good sleep, he left the bridge to meet the doctor in sickbay. They had some planning to do!

"Well, Bones, are you ready?" Jim asked his friend.

"Yes! What's the plan?" McCoy demanded eagerly.

"I will ensure that Mr. Spock stays on the bridge for the next two hours. You will go to his quarters and get to work. I have everything you need here in this bag."

"What will I be doing?"

"You'll know when you see what's in the bag," said Jim with a sly smile. This was fun! "You'll need to be as thorough as possible. Try to do his laundry as well. I know he sends his clothes to the laundry every night, so you might have to stay up a bit and wait."

"All right," said McCoy, his curiosity growing. He wasn't sure why Jim was being so secretive.

Jim handed him the bag. "Are you available to do it now?"

"Yes, fortunately for Mr. Spock, it hasn't been too busy so I didn't fall very behind. I can spare an hour or two."

"Good. I'll go keep Mr. Spock busy then. Let me know when you're finished by asking me to come to sickbay."

"All right." McCoy followed Jim out before they went their separate ways, him to Spock's quarters and Jim to the bridge.

Upon his arrival, McCoy carefully opened the bag and laid the contents of it around him. He examined a few of the items and a slow, gleeful smile lit up his face. Like Jim had promised, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. Spock would be sure to think twice next time!

***********

"Well, it's done, Jim," commented McCoy later that day in sickbay.

"Now we wait. I doubt he'll notice it before tomorrow morning, but you never know."

"I can't wait. I was even extra nice to him today, to catch him off his guard. Didn't argue with him."

"Don't forget to do it to his laundry too."

"Believe me, I won't."

***********

Spock noticed that the doctor seemed in a rather good mood towards him when he ran into him that late afternoon. Apparently his prank been a success. This he did not understand at all, considering the good doctor had spent most of the night trying to figure it out. What was important was the fact that, since he had indeed been successful, he no longer needed to do them. Deciding to forget about pranking and everything that had gone on, he focused once more on his work. They were scanning for more dilithium crystals on a planet they had just discovered. It could prove to be a valuable find and well worth his attention.

Spock slept peacefully that night and woke up feeling refreshed. He grabbed his uniform and was about to pull his shirt over his head, when something on the tag caught his sharp Vulcan eyesight. "It looks like an F," he stated, somewhat puzzled. "F for female," he realized. He stared into space, trying to see the logic and failing. "Why do I have a female uniform?" He looked it over carefully. It was, indeed, his uniform. Even so, perhaps he was mistaken in some way?

He looked for another top, and found that it also said F on the tag. This was true for his pants as well. He thought that strange, but he had seen some women wear pants on the ship. The simple solution would be to find another uniform. Surely he could find something intended for a male! He searched his entire wardrobe, even the underwear, but apparently it had all been meant for a woman! Yet it had his rank insignia on them, so it couldn't be that it had been mixed up with, say, Uhura's laundry, for example. Yet why had he not noticed this before? Had he always worn women's clothing and not known it? Did everyone know this but him?

He put his wardrobe back together and reviewed his options. Trying to figure out a logical answer brought more questions than it answered, and those questions were not pleasant to think about. He did not exactly want to go out wearing woman's clothes now that he knew, yet if he didn't, he would be late for his shift. It would take too long to make new ones. Asking to borrow someone's else's uniform would require an explanation and that was not appealing either. Besides, he was a Vulcan! Vulcans had no emotions. These clothes were serviceable, even if they were woman's clothing. They had worked just fine for him up until now. He would be fine.

As he walked down the hall, he became conscious of every time someone looked at him. What were they thinking? Were they wondering why he was wearing female clothing? 'Stop it,' he told himself. 'I am in control of my emotions!'

He arrived at the bridge. "Good morning, Captain," he said rather stiffly as he made his way to his seat.

Jim hid his grin, which wasn't hard considering Spock wasn't looking at him in the eye. "Good morning, Mr. Spock," he returned. He watched in amusement as his friend sat down a bit tensely and ignored everyone. It seemed that Mr. Spock had discovered McCoy's handiwork and had fallen for it, if his interpretation of Spock's behavior was correct. "You seem a bit...twitchy, Spock. Is everything all right?"

"I am doing just fine, thank you, Captain," insisted Spock. He did not turn one inch from his scanning station as he spoke, determined to avoid facing him. He was desperate to maintain control of himself. It did not matter that he was wearing women's clothes! It was not logical to be concerned or self-conscious. He must control his treacherous imagination that made him feel everyone staring at him in turn, wondering why he was cross-dressing! 'Cross dressing I believe is associated with that human condition known as being gay,' he thought before he could cut himself off from that train of thought. 'Or straight with feminine tendencies.' This did not appeal to him or soothe his tension any. How long had this gone on? How many people knew? Was this the reason why they laughed or smiled at strange times when they thought he hadn't noticed?

His shift seemed to drag on forever. He would manage to forget his attire for a short while, occupying himself with mathematical equations, only to find himself remembering and strangely unwilling to face the captain. Fortunately, although he thought that the captain had probably noticed his behavior, Jim didn't comment further on it and went about business as usual.

At dinner, he sat in his usual seat with Jim. McCoy joined them several minutes after they had begun eating. "How has your day been going, Mr. Spock?" the doctor inquired with innocent politeness.

"The same as any day, doctor," Spock said with a slight snap. "I fail to see any consequence in inquiring about it."

Uncharacteristically, McCoy smiled patiently at this. "I'll keep that in mind, then."

Spock hurried through his dinner. He wished to get away from the stares that seemed to be coming his way. It was somewhat disquieting. He was losing control and really needed to meditate. He carefully wiped his face and cleaned his place with his napkin because he'd been a little messy in his haste to finish.

"Why Spock, such cleanliness," said the doctor with something in his tone Spock didn't recognize. "Seems almost feminine."

Jim covered his mouth with his hand and coughed to cover his laughter at seeing alarm flash for an instant in Spock's eyes.

"I believe it's called manners, doctor. If it is also a feminine quality, then perhaps you could learn a thing or two," Spock retorted. Was the doctor implying what he thought he was implying? "If you will excuse me, I have some things I must attend to." He turned and left for his room. He would call for new clothes as soon as he got there!

McCoy and Jim grinned at each other as Spock left. It seemed their prank was going well!

When Spock arrived at his room, he wasted no time in calling the appropriate department. "This is Spock. I need a new wardrobe immediately."

An overly cheerful female voice answered. He wondered if she was wearing the same clothes as he was, then shied away from the image. "This is Alice speaking! Sir, I would be happy to get you a new wardrobe, however, our machines are shut down for maintenance. The captain ordered it yesterday. I'll be able to fill your order in a few days. You can come down at that time to see to the details."

"Days?" repeated Spock, as if he didn't want to believe it.

"Yes sir, days." Alice wondered why Spock was repeating him. It was highly uncharacteristic.

"Let me know immediately when you can fill my order. Spock out."

Good thing he had a free evening to meditate. He needed it.

****************

The next day, he woke up filled with determination to not let his clothes bother him. He was in control of his emotions! Nonetheless, when he received his laundry for the week back in the chute, he looked through it to check to see if he had any male clothes he could wear. Unfortunately, they, too, all had F on the tag. Resigned to his fate, he put his female shirt, pants and underwear on. His socks did not say F, or have a tag at all. At least his feet were properly attired.

He strode through the halls to the mess, feeling much more confident than yesterday. He had mastered himself! Even female clothes couldn't make him feel anything. He was just congratulating himself again when something made him stop in his tracks.

There before him was a woman walking along casually. That in and of itself wasn't unusual. What made him stop was the fact that her clothes were identical to his, except for her rank! He stared at her with a disbelieving frown, turning with her as she walked past. The woman appeared not to notice. He had known conceptually that he was wearing women's clothes, but seeing it right in front of him was another matter entirely. All the progress he'd made meditating came undone, and he felt very self-conscious and unsophisticated again. He set off in the opposite direction from her. Now that had been a spectacle he did not care to analyze.

Throughout the day he found himself once again distracted and tense. Finally he decided it was not logical to continue in this manner. He had to find some sort of resolution. When his shift ended, he approached Jim. "Captain, would you be willing to meet with me in my quarters?"

"Yes, Spock. When would you like me to be there?" asked Jim.

"As soon as you have the time."

"Well, I can go now. Lead the way, Mr. Spock." Jim followed his friend curiously. He noticed his friend was still edgy, and it was his guess that it was the prank. He'd asked the Apparel department to notify him if Spock called, and they had done so, saying he wanted an entirely new wardrobe. It seemed he had fallen for it. Was he about to talk about it with him?

When they arrived inside Spock's quarters, the Vulcan did not immediately speak. Jim smiled a little and waited patiently. It appeared the Spock was uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"Captain, a matter of a somewhat personal nature has come to my attention," he started hesitantly.

"Yes. Go on," urged Jim.

"It seems there has been some sort of mix up that I have been unaware of for quite some time. I have been wondering if you or any of the crew had noticed it."

"What do you mean, Mr. Spock? Is this about your clothes?"

"You do know, then?" Spock asked.

If Jim didn't know better, he'd say there was horror in Spock's voice. What an unusual sight to see Spock squirm! "Well, yes. I mean, I was beginning to wonder! How could a smart Vulcan like you not know he was wearing female clothing?"

"Well, Captain, I - "

"Dr. McCoy thought you knew and didn't care. You are, after all, an unfeeling Vulcan. He thought the concept of cross dressing wouldn't bother you. It would be illogical, of course, to reject clothing that is perfectly serviceable! Wouldn't you say, Mr. Spock?"

"Well, Captain, I do find cross dressing to be somewhat unsophisticated," admitted Spock. "It seems more efficient to use the things, and wear the things, the way they are meant to be used and worn, and by the type of being it was meant to be used and worn by, than to wear and use things in a way they are not meant to be worn and used."

"Is that a sophisticated way of saying it affects you emotionally, Mr. Spock?" asked Jim, grinning broadly.

Spock tried to deny that was it, but found that he couldn't. He merely stared at Jim, keeping his expression as unreadable as he could under the circumstances.

"I see," said Jim. "Well, Mr. Spock, is that all?"

"Yes." He refrained from asking who else knew. He most likely would not enjoy the results.

"Very well. Would you like to join me for a game of three dimensional chess in my quarters later?" Jim asked hopefully. He felt a bit bad about all of it now and wanted to make it up to his best friend.

"Yes Captain. I will be there at 20:00 hours," agreed Spock.

"I will see you then." Jim left, then headed for his quarters to tell McCoy what had just transpired. Bones would no doubt be quite gleeful. He himself had quite forgiven Spock and was ready for things to go back to normal. Even if, overall, it was the most fun he'd had in a while.

*********

The communication Spock had been waiting for finally came after his shift the next day. He set off for the Apparel department without delay. Finally he could put this behind him!

When he arrived, he discovered the Apparel attendant, Alice, was the same woman who'd he run into earlier that was wearing the same clothes as him!

"Hey, look, we match!" she exclaimed.

Spock did not respond.

"Normally I don't wear this outfit of mine," she explained, "but we've been doing maintenance and my dress uniform is just not practical!" She began taking his measurements and filled the time with irrelevant and inane conversation. That is, until she began saying, "You know, you're not the only one who's made an unusual request lately."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Did you know that the Captain ordered a whole bunch of tags - just the tags! Enough for an entire wardrobe, he said. Didn't say why. I wonder if some poor girl got hers all ripped off somehow. Only explanation I can think of. Why -"

"You are saying that he ordered tags that say "F" on them?" asked Spock incredulously, a suspicion forming in his mind.

"Not just the captain! McCoy came down later for more. Said he didn't have enough. All of us here had fun debating the reasons for that. Last thing I made before we shut everything down for maintenance, by order of the captain as well. Strange, too, usually he waits for the routinely scheduled maintenance. Another strange thing was that he ordered tools to put the tags on himself. We told him we'd be happy to do it for him, but for some unknown reason, he insisted! Anyway, I think you'll like your new wardrobe, sir. It has..."

Spock did not pay much attention after that. His lack of response did not seem to deter her any. So, the Captain and McCoy had been doing something with female tags. Could it be that they had retaliated, and this was all just a part of the custom known as pranking? It had never occurred to him. He would have to research in his book whether retaliation was a part of the custom, and what other customs were associated with this. He would not get caught off guard again! This of course would mean that he had never been wearing female clothing at all. Relief filled him. The Captain had been apparently engaged in what was known as a 'joke' when he'd called him a cross dresser. None of it had been what he had thought it was!

When he was finished with the Apparel department, he immediately went to his "Pranks for Dummies" PADD and read it thoroughly. He found that, indeed, it was custom to retaliate. Which meant that he had to come up with something for them. He found the idea not unpleasant after what they had put him through the past couple of days. It did not take him long to come up with something suitable. It was his most ambitious prank and would require assistance, but it was most efficient in the fact that the one prank would affect them both. He just had to come up with a good plan...


	4. Secret Schemes

Spock, being very efficient, did not require much time to come up with an excellent plan for his prank. It would not take long to complete, but he would require help and the right opportunity. He determined that Mr. Scott would be the best assistant and wasted no time in contacting him.

"Mr. Scott, this is Spock. "

"Scott here."

"Will you meet me in my quarters please?"

"Yes sir. I'll be right up." Scotty flipped the switch. "What the devil does he want?" he wondered. "He's never asked me to come to his quarters before." Despite his confusion, Scotty did not delay and soon found himself inside the Vulcan's private quarters. "You rang sir?"

"Yes. Mr. Scott, I require your assistance in a human custom known as a prank."

"A prank, sir?" said Scotty, not believing his ears.

"Yes. It has come to my attention that when one is pranked, it is customary to prank back. In order to uphold my end of the custom, I find it necessary to switch the environmental controls of Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy. It is in this, that I need your assistance."

"You mean to say, sir, that the Captain and Dr. McCoy pranked you?" asked Scotty, still in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"Yes. They attached female tags to all my clothing, leading me to believe that I was, as you humans say, 'cross dressing.' I did not discover the truth until a few days after the tags appeared."

"They made you believe you were wearing female clothing, sir?" said Scotty, outraged. "Aye, I can see why you want to get them back! What do you need me to do?"

"The plan is as follows..."

*************

A few hours later, Spock sat at his station executing a routine scan. His part of the plan was complete. Mr. Scott now just had to find a good moment to finish setting up the prank. Then something caught his eye, interrupting his train of thought. "Captain, I'm getting energy and motion sensor readings," Spock told him. "Based on previous experience, it could be a cloaked ship of either Klingon or Romulan origin."

"All decks go to yellow alert. Repeat: All decks go to yellow alert," ordered Captain Kirk.

"All decks on alert, sir," said Lieutenant Uhura.

"Reading shows the ship is closing, Captain, on an intercept course. I believe they mean to attack."

"Red alert, all decks red alert," amended the Captain. "Shields up, Mr. Sulu."

"Shields are up, Captain," responded Sulu.

"Have phasers standing by," continued the Captain.

"Phasers standing by," informed Chekov.

"They'll have to de-cloak to fire. Status of the reading, Mr. Spock?"

"Still closing. Still on intercept course, bearing 114, mark 2."

"Put it on screen. Uhura, try to contact them."

The screen ahead showed empty space, but everyone knew better.

"Captain, no response on all frequencies," stated Uhura.

"They are now within firing range, Captain," announced Spock.

The vessel finally appeared on the screen. It was Klingon!

For a split second, Jim remembered his dream and wished getting rid of them would be that simple.

"They are powering up their weapons, Captain!" said Spock.

"Lock phasers on target!" ordered Kirk.

"Phasers locked," assured Sulu.

That moment, the Klingons fired at them. The blast shook the ship hard.

"Fire all weapons!" ordered Kirk.

"Weapons firing!" stated Chekov.

"Shields holding," said Spock. "I'm getting another reading. Another ship approaching, most likely another Klingon vessel."

"Evasive maneuvers! Sulu, get us out of here!"

"Yes, Captain," said Sulu.

The Klingon's shields absorbed most of their shots and took minor damage. Then the Klingons fired again.

"Shields down to 40%, Captain!" informed Spock. "A few more hits and our shields will be gone entirely. The second ship still closing."

"Fire!" ordered Jim. They fired again.

"We don't have enough power to fire again, Captain," stated Spock.

Jim flipped the communication switch. "Scotty, can you give us any more power?"

"No captain, she doesn't have any more!" said Scotty.

The Klingons fired once more. The entire ship shook and a few people fell from their seats.

"The second ship is now in firing range, Captain," Spock announced. "One more hit and our shields will be gone."

The second ship de-cloaked in just that moment and fired. The shot clearly blasted away the last of their shields, and everyone fell out of their seats.

"Shields are gone, Captain!" said Spock. Jim met his eyes. Were they about to be finished?

"Damage report!" said Kirk, determined to hold out until the end. Seeing Spock doing so gave him much strength, and once more he found himself appreciating his best friend.

"Several lower decks were hit, sir. Our phasers, shields and warp drive are currently inoperable. Repair is possible but it will take some hours," stated Uhura.

"Hours that we don't have!" said Kirk. Seconds passed, and all was quiet. "How come they aren't finishing us off? The first ship might not be able to, but the second one is still in good condition. What's holding them back?"

"Unknown, captain. However, I am detecting a slight energy disturbance. Almost as if they were beaming something aboard this ship. However, it is so minute that I cannot be certain."

"Do you know the exact location of the beamed object?"

"Impossible to say for sure, but it seems to be on one of the lower decks."

"Captain," interrupted Uhura. "I'm picking up a coded message between the ships."

"Decode it immediately," ordered Kirk. "All decks alert. We may have a small object that was beamed aboard. Search and disable it immediately."

"Captain," said Spock, puzzlement coloring his voice for the first time. "The Klingons are warping away. Their course is 111 mark 4 and holding."

"But why?" wondered Kirk. "They had us between a rock and a hard place! They could have finished us off easily."

"The logical answer would lie in whatever they beamed aboard this ship."

Kirk acknowledged this with a glance, then flipped the intercom. "Security team. Progress report."

"We have found a PADD, sir, that seems to have a message on it from the Klingon commander. Nothing else out of the ordinary has been seen."

"Deliver it up here immediately!" ordered Kirk.

Two minutes later, a security man arrived on the lift and gave the PADD to the captain.

"Thank you. You may go," said Kirk, as he read the message. The man left. "It says here that they decided a quick death would be too kind a thing to give to us after what we did to them. They wish us to have a taste of our own medicine and have beamed it aboard the ship along with this PADD. They say that we'll be wishing we had those horrible furry creatures back when we discover their surprise. Mr. Spock, do an analysis on this PADD immediately. It's possible they may have hidden something inside."

"Yes, Captain," Spock agreed obediently, and took the device from him to his science station for a complete examination.

"Captain, I've decoded the message," said Uhura. "The Klingon commander was informing the other ship that the mission had been accomplished and to leave immediately."

"Thank you, Uhura," said Jim, relief finally sinking in. They weren't out of the woods yet, since the gift the Klingons had left would likely be very unpleasant. But at least they were out of immediate danger.

"Captain," said Spock. "I can find nothing out of the ordinary about this PADD, except for the fact that it has an extra compartment 2 square inches in size, programmed to open at approximately 3.4 seconds after it beamed aboard. There is every indication that it opened successfully. Whatever was inside is now loose aboard the ship."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock." He flipped the intercom. "All decks alert. Be on the alert for a tiny object or objects potentially harmful and unpleasant. Inform me immediately of any findings. Kirk out." Jim turned towards Spock. "Well, Mr. Spock, any theories?"

"There is not enough data to point to any one possibility," answered Spock. "It could be anything from a virus, to an insect, to a strange electronic device, to an infinity of unknowns."

"Well, we've done all we can do here, until our security team finds something," mused the Captain. After this stressful situation, he felt he needed to step back and regroup. "Mr. Spock, would you be interested in dining with me in my quarters while we wait for news?"

"I would be delighted, Captain," said Spock.

"Chekov, take over the Science station. Sulu, you have the conn."

The two friends left the bridge. Jim was glad Spock had agreed to this. There was something reassuring about having him at his side. He could always depend on his best friend.

They sat together at his large desk and ate in silence. At times like this, Jim wondered what was going through that brilliant mind of Spock's. Perhaps he was calculating the various things that could have been in that PADD. Or maybe he was calculating the nutritional substance of his food. Or - however unlikely it seemed to be, looking at his best friend's stoic face - possibly he was as shaken up about their near death experience as he had been? Being a veteran of those, he was good at controlling his reactions, but it did not make it any less stressful.

Spock, meanwhile, was not thinking any of those things. He was contemplating how the unfortunate events of the day would delay Mr. Scott in finishing the prank, which now the captain clearly needed. But the repairs the Enterprise needed were extensive, so it was likely that the engineer could not do his part until the next day. Depending on what the Klingons had beamed over, it might take even longer than that.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Spock?" asked Jim.

Spock frowned in confusion. "Jim, pennies were discontinued in the late 21st century - "

Jim grinned. This was just what he needed - Spock being Spock. Everything was all right with the world. "It's an expression, Spock," Jim explained. "It means I would like to know what you are thinking."

"I am contemplating the approximate amount of time it will take to repair the ship - assuming, of course, that whatever the Klingons beamed aboard is not disruptive to the process."

"And what is the estimate?"

"Approximately 16.43 hours, Jim, to get the basic repairs completed."

Just then they were interrupted by the communicator. "Captain, we have searched the entire ship but do not see anything amiss."

"Very well. Keep on the lookout, and keep me informed. Kirk out."

Jim and Spock played a game of chess before going to bed. It had been a pleasant if somewhat tense evening as they waited for any news. Nobody got much sleep that night, as the promise of a slow death by the Klingons hung over their heads, cause yet unknown. It was a couple hours before dawn, when no one had reported in for awhile, that Jim finally fell asleep.


	5. Melded Sight

The first thing Mr. Spock noticed the next morning was how silent everything was. His sensitive Vulcan ears picked up more sounds than the average human, from the faintest breath to the slight click of a light switch. Yet he heard absolutely nothing. He opened his eyes. His sight was normal. He swung his feet over the bed and set them down harder than normal, a sound he should definitely be able to hear. Yet, he still heard nothing. He flipped the communicator switch and tried to speak. He found he couldn't. Although he could still breathe, his vocal chords were seized up. He shut the communicator off. What else was he now incapable of? Was anyone else affected? Spock immediately thought of Jim. If this was some kind of disease left by the Klingons, as he was beginning to believe, humans would react differently than he would. Was Jim in trouble?

With that thought, Spock left his quarters in a hurry to check on his friend. He was pleased to note that he could still move with agility and his mind was clear. He was not feverish or anything of that nature. He simply could not hear, speak, and now he was also beginning to suspect he could not smell or taste either, since he was not inundated by the usual smells of the ship. He pressed the buzzer for Jim's door. Although he could not hear it, he assumed it sounded. He also could not hear if Jim had responded or not. He pressed it again before entering. He felt sure that Jim would accept his explanation for not waiting for a response, since of course he could not be made aware of one.

He found the captain lying on his bed, a confused expression on his face. His mouth was forming words, but Spock could not hear them. Apparently, Jim at least could still speak and presumably hear as well. But why wasn't he looking at him? As Spock had never known Jim to speak extensively to himself, he could only conclude that the captain was aware of his presence and was directing his words to him. Spock tried again uselessly to speak. By the way Jim's mouth was moving it appeared he was speaking quite loudly. His eyes were moving rapidly around, as if searching for something, but never focusing on anything. Suddenly suspicious, Spock waved a hand in front of Jim's face. Jim did not react, but looked frustrated and began feeling his way from his bed, apparently trying to get to the door. Spock moved immediately to help him. This obviously startled Jim, and he saw his mouth form more words he could not hear.

Spock was not sure what to do. If Jim could not see, he could not use sign language. He himself could not hear or speak, so he could not communicate that way either. He could design a computer program to say the words for him, but that would take time. They were potentially in a crisis. It could be that every crewman aboard was blind. If that was the case, time was something they did not have.

Spock hesitantly lifted a hand to Jim's face. He did not like to use the mind meld without asking permission first. He especially disliked using it for communication because of the emotional transference. However, he felt that he had little choice. He pressed his fingers to Jim's face to begin the meld.

Jim struggled a bit at first, startled. Spock grabbed him and held him steady so he could concentrate. Realization dawned on Jim's face, and he immediately went still. Apparently he had realized that it was Spock and what Spock was trying to do. The Vulcan felt him relax, and he took that moment to enter his friend's mind.

He first became aware of Jim's intense concern for him. He had concluded that something was wrong with Spock, because he had not been responding verbally to him. He had not known it was him until Spock had initiated the mind meld. Spock felt a deep emotion swelling in him at the depth of his friend's concern. He had known his captain felt friendship for him, but not to what extent. He could not focus on it now, however. Jim apparently was unaware that anything was wrong with himself. He believed that all the lights had gone out on the ship and had hypothesized that it was because of the extent of the ship's damage. Jim, Spock addressed him, mentally 'knocking' and asking permission to delve deeper into his mind.

Spock, Jim responded, his mental tone giving permission.

Spock then established the depth necessary to communicate. Jim could now hear his thoughts and feel his emotions as well.

Spock, of course I feel that way, you're my best officer, my best friend!

Spock could not dwell on his friend's thoughts, and he felt that Jim understood. It was not his way. Jim felt him reciprocate his feelings of friendship and seemed content with that. Jim, I must apologize for intruding in this way. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no alternative.

Spock, I trust you. Don't worry about it. What is going on?

The lights are all operating normally, Jim. He found he could not address him as captain when they were joined together so intimately. It is you who cannot see them. I cannot hear, speak or smell, and it is likely I cannot taste either. Spock knew Jim was not experiencing any other symptoms than blindness. He could feel everything he felt, and it was beginning to get hard to differentiate between them.

What about the rest of the crew? The ship? What is happening?

I do not know yet, Jim. My first concern was you. Spock saw no point in trying to hide this fact. Jim could clearly feel his feelings. There was no use pretending he had none. Visually, all seems normal, except on reflection I did not encounter anyone in my hurry to get to you.

Spock, you must lead me around to check on the ship. You can be my eyes and I will be your ears. Do not be afraid to meld with me again to communicate as necessary.

Spock felt Jim's regret that he was made uncomfortable by this order because of the inevitable sharing of his feelings. At the same time, he knew Jim got great satisfaction from what they were. This did alleviate some of his discomfort. He felt Jim give a mental smile. Lead the way, Spock.

Jim felt Spock take a firm hold of his arm, so he allowed his friend to lead him forward. He found that with Spock at his side, he was not particularly concerned with being blind. Of course the thought of it being permanent bothered him, but he had picked up on the thought in Spock's mind that it was most likely due to some sort of disease the Klingons had evidently beamed over, and possibly curable. That was good enough for Jim. His friend was usually right. If anyone could come up with a cure, it would be Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock.

He found Spock to be a very good guide and stepped out confidently as a result. He tried speaking a few times but realized his friend couldn't hear him. The sounds of the ship seemed normal, but it was strangely quiet of human voices and footsteps. Spock turned him countless times, took him in the lift, then made many more turns. He heard the sound of a door opening, then McCoy's voice floating towards them.

"Can't see a damn thing! You'd think the lights would be the first thing to get fixed! How do they expect me to work in the dark?! I'm a doctor, not a vampire bat!"

"Bones, this is Jim," he said as Spock stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

"Jim! How the blazes did you manage to get down here?! I could barely make it from my room!"

"Spock led me here," Jim explained.

"Of course, I should have known that Vulcans can see in the dark! Well I - "

"Bones, the lights are on as normal. We are blind. Spock can see, but he cannot hear, talk, smell or taste. He believes that this is all due to what the Klingons beamed aboard. As a Vulcan, he did not respond the same way as us. He also believes that every crew member aboard is likely to be blind by now as well."

"That's terrible! But wait....he can't talk? At least something has gone right today," commented McCoy.

"Bones," said Jim in a warning tone. He was feeling a bit protective of Spock after how his friend had been so vulnerable to him. "He mind melded with me to let me know what is going on. That's how we're communicating."

McCoy bit back his response to this. He sure was glad he wasn't in that Vulcan's mind. It was bound to be a disturbing place! He hoped it wouldn't become necessary to meld with him as well.

"I'm going to meld with him again to ask what he's seeing." Jim grabbed the hand that was still on his arm, and raised it carefully to his face. Spock must have gotten the message, because he stepped closer and initiated the meld. He became aware of Spock's irritation of not knowing what they were saying and at the inefficiency of the situation, mixed in with concern for the crew, the ship, and above all, for Jim himself.

Spock. What do you see? What is going on?

I would like to ask you the same question, Spock thought before he could stop himself. My apologies, Jim. I cannot filter my responses here.

Jim could feel his sincerity. It's all right. Go on, Spock.

Visually, the ship seems as normal as it can now with the damage it sustained, except for the absence of crew members. I did not check the bridge or the engineering rooms to see if they were still manned. My first concern was to get McCoy aware of the situation so he could start working on a cure and to get a general idea of what is going on. If it is agreeable to you, I think we should check on the bridge and engineering next. It is obviously important to make sure the ship is stopped in a safe place before we can try to do anything else.

Yes, as you say that seems logical. McCoy was not aware that he was blind, but I told him our situation.

Spock felt Jim's irritation with McCoy and his protective feelings. Jim, do not concern yourself. I have long been aware of the doctor's disposition towards me and accepted it.

He assumes too much about you. But we can't dwell on that now. I'm going to talk to McCoy a bit more, tell him to find a cure and ask what help he needs. Then you must lead me to the bridge and engineering.

Yes, Jim. Acknowledged. Spock broke the meld. He waited until Jim appeared to have stopped speaking and turned towards him to be lead forward. Spock led him to the bridge as quickly as he could and had to catch Jim a few times when he tripped over his own feet. The lack of visual perception was affecting Jim's balance somewhat.

Jim felt himself in the lift, then the doors opened. The voices of Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu reached his ears, engaged in casual conversation. Apparently, they too, assumed the lights were off and were awaiting them to be fixed. Spock lead him forward a few more steps, then stopped. "This is the Captain speaking."

Immediately the voices ceased.

"Can any of you see?"

A chorus of "no sirs" came his way. "The lights were on as normal, but a few hours ago they all switched off abruptly," Sulu explained.

"The lights are not turned off." He explained the situation to them. "With the aid of Mr. Spock, I will attempt to have the ship come to a full stop. In our present condition we cannot risk flying anywhere, since this is certainly not a ship that can be operated by the equivalent of one man, or even two. Then, I'm afraid, we'll have to leave you all here for the time being while we check on the rest of the crew to ascertain their condition."

Jim turned and lifted Spock's hand to his face again. Spock immediately melded with him. Jim, they all appear to be fine, except obviously blind from their expressions.

Yes. I wish I could see them. Now we -

There is a way, thought Spock hesitantly.

Spock, tell me!

Jim, if I deepened the meld to the fullest extent, you could see through my eyes and I could hear through your ears. However, in such a state, there is nothing we could hide from the other, and we would not know the differences between our bodies.

I see. Well I don't, but you know what I mean.

Humor. That is what it feels like. Fascinating.

Spock, I would really like to see, and until we get this ship stopped I think it is best that we both have all our senses at our disposal. I trust you. However, I do not want you to be uncomfortable. I will not order you to do it, but I would like you to deepen the meld as much as you can.

Your logic is sound, Jim. My own discomfort is not important in the face of the needs of the ship, and yours. I will do as you say.

Jim felt new and strange sensations bombarding him. Then he could see. Yes! He felt a surge of relief that seemed bigger than usual. He realized it was mirrored by his other part, Spock, who could now hear. Their thoughts were connected, and they found themselves communicating and making decisions together effortlessly, as one. With Spock's hand still on his face, their face to be more exact, it was rather confusing, they walked to the helm to make the necessary adjustments. Spock's body still could not speak, but speech was quite unnecessary. Within a few minutes they had the ship at a full stop and set to maintain it until further instruction. They told the crew through Jim's mouth they were leaving. Then they made the rounds of the ship, making sure everyone knew what was going on. It appeared that everyone was blind, no exceptions.

Since the only thing they could do to help his crew was to help McCoy to find a cure, they went back to sickbay. Just before the doors, they stopped and considered the meld. They worked well together as one and knew much of the other. It would be logical to talk to McCoy before deciding to continue the meld or not. It would be more efficient.

McCoy. The pair was somewhat discorded in their views of the doctor, and briefly could differentiate who was who, before melding completely again. "Dr. McCoy," they said through Jim.

"Yes, Jim? I heard the door open and figured it was you. I've been talking to the computer to see what I can find out. Seems about all I can do without being able to see."

"We are Spock and Jim - "

"You're in a mind meld?"

"That is correct. What assistance do you require?"

McCoy bit back a laugh. No wonder Jim sounded so strange - anyone would with that Vulcan messing with their minds! "Well, you could start by running some standard tests to see what turns up."

They remembered Spock's prank, and the image of McCoy covered in spots while running tests sprang to their mind. Feeling amused, they obeyed McCoy and took blood samples and such to run tests on. They also did a scan of McCoy. Since this was certainly more efficient than being separate, they continued the meld as the process went on. However, after a few hours with no results they were exhausted, and mutually agreed to separate.

Spock led Jim to the captain's quarters. Now the more far-reaching problems were beginning to dawn on them. How would the crew eat? They might be able to feel their way to the bathroom, and drink the tap water, but it was unlikely that most of them would be able to find their way to the mess hall to eat. They had to find a cure, and fast!


	6. Environmental Controls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prank in this chapter is based on something that actually happened to my grandparents. Their story makes me laugh every time I hear it! So this is dedicated to them.

Spock was deep in thought the entire trip to Jim's quarters. Once inside, they both sat for a considerable amount of time, resting and wracking their brains for an answer. Spock found himself thinking how different everything felt to him now with the use of only two senses. He did not realize how much he used his sense of smell until he was deprived of it. The air certainly carried a lot of information he had taken for granted. The air. A new idea occurred to him. He initiated the meld with Jim, but only to the point they could communicate. Jim, I believe we may be going about this the wrong way.

Why?

So far, we have assumed that this is a disease. What if it isn't? What if it is a gas?

You may be right. What should we do?

I'm going to take readings on the air content. We also should run the ventilation system of the ship to try and clear the air. Assuming that I am correct, tt is possible that clearing the air is all that is required to regain our senses. Even if it isn't, it is a logical place to start.

Very well. Do you require assistance?

No. I should be able to complete the readings and ventilation process even without the aid of my ears. I will take my leave of you and return very soon. Spock could feel Jim's intense dislike of being left alone, helpless and blind, especially when his ship was in trouble. I will leave you by your communicator. I will not be gone long.

Thanks Spock. I know you will do the best you can.

Spock carried out his plan, and indeed picked up gases in the air that should no be there. However, it was a gas that he'd never encountered before, which was why the ship's censors did not pick it up and sound the alarm. He ran an analysis of it and attempted to clean the air of it using the ventilation system. It seemed his next step would be to give this information to Dr. McCoy so he could make sense of it. He would of course need to speak through Jim again.

**********

Dr. McCoy isolated the gas into several different bottles and flooded it with various other gases and substances to see what would neutralize it. After about a half hour, he found that pure oxygen eradicated the harmful gas. "Well, that will be easy enough to solve. We'll have everyone take a turn in the oxygen chamber. Time consuming, but should be effective. The ventilation system has aired out the ship enough that you probably won't be blinded again."

"Very well, Bones. I'll go first." Jim went in the chamber. Within minutes he could see! He stepped out, smiling. He had never fully appreciated his sight before this moment. "It worked. Bones, you go next."

The doctor regained his sight, then let Spock take his turn. Spock staggered out minutes later. "I have regained my senses, but it seems the pure oxygen has caused me to feel feverish," he explained. "The air is thinner on Vulcan, and I found myself unprepared to deal with pure oxygen."

"Go lie down in one of the beds. I'll have a look at you," said Dr. McCoy, also immensely pleased to see again.

Jim and Dr. McCoy oversaw the crew while they took their turns in the chamber. "Well, Bones, this wasn't so bad," the captain mused. "I wonder why the Klingons thought it would be?"

"Their medicine isn't as advanced as ours. They're more concerned with conquest than healing. It may be they are not aware there even is a cure."

"That sounds logical," commented Jim absently.

Dr. McCoy glanced at his friend, bemused. It seemed that all that time in Spock's head had messed with Jim a bit. He certainly hoped he wouldn't be dealing with two Spock personalities from now on! That would be worse than the spots!

Meanwhile, Spock lay in bed, still feeling feverish. The doctor had told him he'd be there for another day or so before he would be fit for duty. Speaking of duty, he had one he needed to see completed. He'd completely forgotten about it in the chaos. It was fortunate, since otherwise Jim would have read it in his mind during their meld.

He flipped the communicator switch on. Most of the crew had regained their sight, and he needed to speak with Mr. Scott. Dr. McCoy and Jim were otherwise occupied and would not notice. "Mr. Scott, this is Mr. Spock."

"Scott here."

"Have you completed your part of the prank?"

"Well, sir, I wasn't sure you wanted to go through with it, considering everything that's happened. They're a bit stressed with everything going on, the blindness, ship repairs, and all."

"Precisely, Mr. Scott. That is exactly why we need to go through with it. I have observed that these pranks alleviate the human condition of stress. Therefore, this whole operation will be to their benefit. See it to completion, Mr. Scott."

"All right, sir," agreed Scotty skeptically. "I'll be right on it."

***********

It had been a long, exhausting process, but finally every crewman could see again. The Klingon's gas was eradicated from the ship, and he, McCoy, was cleared to sleep. He certainly needed it! It was very late, and he hadn't slept well the previous night, what with wondering if he was going to die in his sleep and all. He dressed and was about to climb in bed when he noticed it was a tad cold in the room. No problem, he thought. I'll just turn the heat up!

Mission accomplished, he climbed in bed to get to sleep. It was still cold, but he expected it would warm up very soon.

Meanwhile, Jim entered his quarters in similar condition. He thought it was a bit warmer than usual but he didn't mind. He climbed into bed. After a few minutes, he noticed it got considerably warmer. It wasn't bad, but it was a bit warm for his tastes. He got up and turned down the thermostat a few notches. That should take care of it! He crawled back into bed, looking forward to a good rest.

Back in McCoy's quarters, the doctor was having trouble sleeping. Instead of getting warmer, it felt like it had dropped a few degrees. "What is the matter with this thing?" he wondered, irritably turning up the heat. Hoping this was his last foray out of bed, he settled down again to sleep.

Jim woke up, feeling a bit sweaty. Strange, he did not recall having a bad dream. Then he realized that his room was warmer than ever before. He got up and turned it down several notches. That should do it! He went back to bed and pulled a thin sheet over himself. In this heat, that was all he needed.

Meanwhile, McCoy starting to shiver and feel increasingly cranky. "Why in the blazes isn't it getting warmer?! It's taking it's sweet old time!" He turned up the heat several notches and grabbed several blankets. He was going to get a good night's sleep one way or another!

Jim, in his quarters, began to sweat in earnest. He threw the sheet off and took his top off, but it didn't help much. "It's hotter than Hades in here!" he commented, agitated. He looked over the thermostat. All seemed normal. It indicated that the cooling systems were indeed on. Perhaps if he turned it down one more time? He did so, certain that this would finally do it.

Back in the doctor's quarters, McCoy was shivering so hard the whole bed was shaking. He swore it had dropped another ten degrees in the past few minutes! "I'm freezing my ass off in here!" he complained loudly. "What am I? A doctor, or a polar bear?! Why isn't the damn thing working?!" He turned the heat on maximum. "If that doesn't do it, I'm calling Engineering!" Thoroughly pissed off, the sleep deprived doctor grabbed another five blankets and tried to sleep.

Jim, meanwhile, had turned his thermostat to the lowest level and was quite perplexed that he was now dripping with sweat! "It doesn't make any sense! It indicates that it's fully functional. Yet it's doing the opposite of what I'm telling it to do!"

He finally decided to call Engineering. "Engineering, this is the Captain. Who am I speaking with?"

"Thomas, sir."

"Thomas, I seem to be having a problem with my environmental controls. I have it on maximum cooling power, yet it's hotter than Hades in here! Can you please do what you can to fix it?"

"Right away, sir!" Tom responded. He had barely flipped off the communicator when another call came in. "Tom here."

"This is McCoy speaking. I'm freezing my ass off in here! Can you please turn the heat up! I don't care how. All I ask for is a little warmth and a good night's sleep!"

"Yes, doctor. I just got a call from the Captain having the opposite problem. I'll get to work right away!" Tom switched it off. Very strange. He rarely encountered such a thing, and twice in such close succession was unheard of. Perhaps it had something to do with all the damage they sustained recently? But problems of that nature had already been thoroughly repaired hours ago!

After examining the two systems from top to bottom, he noticed that a few key relay transmitters had been switched. No wonder the two were suffering extremes! McCoy was controlling the temperature of the Captain's room, and vice versa! It would be easy enough to fix, but would take a bit of time. Pleased with his find, he decided to let them know.

"Captain, this is Thomas from Engineering. I have located the problem. It may take a little time, but it is simple enough. The controls of your room and Dr. McCoy's were somehow switched. He is experiencing freezing temperatures, as your control shows, and as you know your room is well above normal, like his control shows. I'm not sure how this could have happened, sir. It does not seem like it could have been an accident."

"I see what you mean, Tom. Please get on it as soon as you can. I would really like some sleep. I'll contact Dr. McCoy for you, to save you time."

"Thank you sir. It'll be back to normal before you know it!" Tom switched off and hurried to his job.

"Kirk to McCoy. I heard it's a bit cold in your room."

"Cold?! That doesn't cover it! It's colder than the North Pole in the dead of winter and I've had no sleep at all!"

Jim made a mental note to never mess with McCoy's controls. He sounded ready to commit murder! "I've had the opposite problem. I'm sweating rivers because of the heat in my room. I just talked to Engineering and they've located the problem. Our controls were somehow switched. It should be fixed in a little while."

"Not soon enough!" griped McCoy. "That desert heat sounds good. What do you say we switch rooms?"

"It seems simpler to fix the problem by setting our thermostats for each other. Here, I'm raising it right now," said Jim.

"You're right," said McCoy, sounding a bit calmer. "It's hard to think straight when my teeth are chattering. I'll turn mine down now."

Within minutes, their rooms were on their way back to normal. They chatted a bit as they waited.

"How did they say this happened? Was it a mistake?" wondered McCoy.

"Tom the engineer didn't seem to think so. I wonder who, and why, would do such a thing?"

"Well, I do know! It must be that damn Vulcan again, getting us back for those female tags! I've been losing a lot of sleep due to him!"

"Mr. Spock? But it couldn't have been! Don't you remember? I've been inside his head for a long period of time in the last day. We did a complete meld. Not once did anything of this nature cross his mind. On top of that, he's ill in sickbay. He couldn't have done it!"

"Oh, yes, how could I forget. Maybe because I've been trying to! Can't tell you how creepy it was to have two Spock personalities at once! I do see your point though. If it wasn't Mr. Spock, then who was it?"

"There aren't very many with the technical knowledge to do this. I'll ask Tom what he can find out."

"Have him report in the morning, please. Now that the temperature is normal I should finally be able to sleep."

"I will do that. I would like to sleep as well. Goodnight, Bones."

"Goodnight, Jim."

**********

The next afternoon, Jim received the report he'd been waiting for."Captain, I found out who switched the controls. It must have been Scotty. He's one of the few with that sort of knowledge, and he was absent from his post for an unusual length of time. To top it off, Chekov remembers seeing him working there after the repairs were finished. He thought it was odd, but didn't question it because he was excited about having his sight back. I don't believe it could have been anyone else. We've all been so busy with repairs or blind. Everyone else has been accounted for at all times. Scotty was tight lipped about his whereabouts."

"Thanks, Tom."

"Do you have any orders concerning him, sir?"

"No, Tom, I have something else in mind. Do not concern yourself. Kirk out." Jim smiled slowly to himself. So, Scotty wanted to join the prank war. Jim knew exactly what he was going to do. Scotty would not sleep well in his quarters for a long while when he was through. Once Spock was better, his friend would be able to provide the technological help he needed. It would be a prank Scotty would never forget!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and if anyone's curious about my grandparents - they have a queen bed with special remote controls that make each side warmer or colder. They switched controls accidentally one night and couldn't figure out why they kept getting warmer/colder just like Kirk and McCoy did in this chapter. It's hilarious when they tell it! :)


	7. Spices, Spiders, and Smells!

Despite what Jim had said, McCoy was still not entirely convinced that Spock did not have a hand in switching their controls. He bet that Spock had been more bothered by the female tags than he'd let on and wanted revenge. Well! After freezing his behind off that past night, he wasn't ready to let anything go, especially when it came to Spock. And he knew the perfect way to get him back!

McCoy pulled out his book of southern recipes. He remembered seeing one for the spiciest, hottest pizza known to mankind - the Hell's Breath pizza! Spock's Vulcan physiology was more resistant to spicy foods than most. But the doctor felt sure that even Spock would be running for water at the first bite. Just looking at the ingredients made his eyes water.

McCoy made the necessary adjustments to the replicator so it would make his pizza. When it was done, and McCoy picked up the platter, his eyes began to stream from the fumes. He walked as quickly as he could to Spock's quarters and buzzed himself in. "Special delivery!" he announced. Spock had been released from Sickbay, so he fully expected him to be there.

"Hello doctor," said Spock, frowning in confusion as McCoy walked in. "What is going on? Are you all right?" He had noticed McCoy seemed to be crying.

McCoy sniffed loudly. "Well, you did such a fabulous job yesterday, realizing it was gas and all - saving all the crew - well it's really touching," McCoy said, his eyes streaming in earnest. "I thought you deserved a special treat! It's called a pizza. It's a southern recipe, and don't worry, there's no meat on it. Completely vegetarian safe!" He set it down, trying not to look like he was in a hurry to get away from it. He wiped his eyes and attempted to get his sniffles under control.

"I was merely doing what needed to be done," commented Spock, unsure of what to make of McCoy's overly emotional display. "However, I thank you for your gift of 'pizza.' " He sat down and immediately took a bite. He was rather hungry.

Through his increasingly teary eyes, McCoy watched in disbelief as Spock took one bite, then another, with no apparent problem with the extreme spices. "How do you like it?"

"It is quite good," said Spock politely. "Although, it does have a rather strong flavoring I'm not familiar with." To be honest, there was something rather compelling about it. He was experiencing a rather illogical urge to eat the entire thing as fast as he could. And not only that - he could feel the blood rushing through his veins at a very high rate of speed. "Additionally, I seem to be experiencing what you Earth men call an adrenalin rush." He started on his second slice without giving it much thought.

"An adrenalin rush," repeated McCoy in disbelief. "You aren't wanting anything to drink?"

"Very kind of you, doctor, but I believe I can manage on my own," assured Spock. "I do not understand why you appear so skeptical."

"Your taste buds - your sense of smell - they are in working order?" said McCoy, still refusing to believe what he was seeing.

"Why yes, doctor. You seem surprised that I like your 'pizza.' I assure you, your doubts are unfounded. In fact, I can't seem to stop eating it..." he mused, realizing he was on his fourth slice already.

McCoy had about all he could take. "Well, enjoy yourself then, Spock," he said. "I'll get back to sickbay!"

"Don't you want a slice, doctor?"

"No! I'm not hungry!" he said, irritated that his prank had failed. Of all things, it would be that that Vulcan had an unfeeling tongue and sinuses as well as an unfeeling heart! Peeved, he went back to work. He knew Jim had something in store for Scotty tomorrow morning. He sure hoped it went better than his attempt with Spock!

The next morning....

Scotty was having a lovely dream. His Enterprise was being recognized as the finest ship in the fleet. Even the Klingons had to admit to her greatness! Trumpets sounded as she landed in space dock. "All hail the Enterprise!" the president of the Federation cried. Scotty beamed with pride -

"BZZZZZZTTT!" his alarm sounded.

"Well, time to get up," he grumbled to himself as he opened his eyes. Then he froze in terror.

His entire quarters were covered, wall to wall, in what he could only assume were spiderwebs! "Oh my..." he whispered shakily. If there was anything that scared him, it was those multi-legged creatures! By the size of those webs, there had to be a large number of them to have done it so quickly! "Or one big one..." he realized in horror. He couldn't move. Any number of those beasties could be crawling on him right now! Who even knew where they were. It was hard to see with all those webs! "I bet they laid eggs too."

After a minute of barely being able to breathe, he realized he had to do something or he'd be late for his shift. He got up very slowly, ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest sign of movement. The spiderwebs swayed, but fortunately he could see no sign of their makers.

"Got to kill it, got to kill it," he muttered to himself frantically as he searched for a weapon. He couldn't use a phaser - it would cause too much damage and sound the alarms of the ship. Unfortunately the only thing within reach was his pillow - but it was better than nothing.

He got up slowly and carefully began swatting away the webs. As he did so, he could see just how extensive they were. Whatever did this, couldn't be good. Heart thudding, he tensed to spring the moment he saw movement.

Meanwhile, Spock woke to an identical sight in his room. He raised an eyebrow in response. It did not take him long to realize that it was made by one of the mechanical spiders he had designed at the captain's request. Apparently this was the captain's way of pranking him back. Either that, or Jim had simply forgot to turn them off, and they were now loose on the ship. Either way, it looked like it was now Spock's turn to come up with something. According to his book, the only way to get a prank war to end was to make it so the person couldn't figure out who had pranked him. He had one such prank ready for the captain. He would inject an unpleasant odor in his toothpaste bottle and give it the appearance of being untampered. If he figured out it was coming from his toothpaste, Jim would be likely to believe it was simply defective. Spock felt sure it would work. Jim would smell something slightly off and not be able to figure out where it was coming from.

It only took a few minutes to complete this prank. Jim was sound asleep and did not notice his tampering with the toothpaste bottle. Now all he had to do was wait.

A little while later, Jim showered, ate, and brushed his teeth and hair as usual. As he was leaving, he noticed that something smelled bad, but he wasn't sure from where. Shrugging it off, he figured housekeeping would see to it. He had more important things to do.

He reached the bridge, and noticed the smell was still lingering.

Uhura turned towards him. "Captain, there's a priority one message from Starfleet."

"All right, Uhura. Onscreen," said Jim.

"Captain James Kirk, do you read me?" The Starfleet Admiral asked.

"Yes, this is Kirk, go right ahead," Jim replied.

"Captain Kirk, we are requesting that you head to the coordinates we are sending you to pick up Ambassadors and give them safe passage to Star Base 12. They are very important, so please do your best to make a good impression. I have heard they are a bit like Vulcans in their mind disciplines. That is why we picked your ship, because you in all of Starfleet are the most familiar with that."

"Acknowledged, Admiral. We are receiving the coordinates." He turned to Uhura.

"Coordinates received, Captain," Uhura informed him. She noticed a foul odor from somewhere, but did not comment.

"We have received the coordinates and will head there immediately," said Captain Kirk.

"Very good. We know we can count on you." The transmission ended.

"Sulu, lay in a course for those coordinates," said Jim.

"Aye, Captain," said Sulu. "Course laid in, sir." A waft of something that smelled really bad came his way, but he kept up his professional demeanor.

"Warp factor three, Mr. Sulu," ordered Jim.

"Warp factor three, Captain," announced Sulu as he sped the ship up. He hoped the smell would dissipate quickly. It was getting difficult to breathe. He noticed Chekov also appeared to be having breathing problems.

Satisfied that he had done what he could for his duty to Starfleet at the moment, he decided to go to the mess hall. Uhura, Sulu, and Cheov found themselves able to breathe again. They did not care about where the smell had come from, so long as it was gone!

"Something smells bad in here," muttered Jim to himself. However, he was quite hungry and wanted to take care of that first.

Spock was in the mess hall, eating pizza. Jim stopped in disbelief. He would not have believed it if he wasn't seeing it himself. "Pizza, Spock?" he queried his First Officer.

"Yes, Captain. McCoy gave me a pizza yesterday in apparent celebration of my contribution to the resolution of our recent crisis. He was quite emotional about it, in fact."

"So you liked it so well you decided to have it for breakfast?" said Jim.

"Yes. I ate all but one piece so I could analyze the ingredients. They had a most curious effect on me and I wished to know more about it. The computer reported that some of them are quite potent. However, I had not found that to be the case, so I programmed them into the replicator so I could have more in the future. Would you like a slice, Captain?"

Jim found his eyes were watering strangely. He did not know why. Perhaps it was from the smell that still lingered around the ship. "Yes, thank you," said Jim. "Come to think of it, maybe Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty would like some as well, as a special treat." He contacted the bridge, and the two helmsman said they would arrive soon.

Scotty, however, took a few minutes to answer his call. "Scotty, I was wondering if you would like some pizza. Special treat."

"I would love that, Captain, but I'm having a wee bit of a problem right now," he admitted, his voice shaking.

"What seems to be the trouble? Are you all right, Scotty?" asked Jim. He realized it must be his prank.

"Well, sir, it's nothing I can't handle," he said stubbornly. He was scared out of his wits, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone! "I'll be up there soon."

"Very well, Scotty. It'll be waiting for you." He turned off the communicator.

Sulu and Chekov entered, their noses wrinkled a bit. Well, Jim didn't blame them, that smell was getting worse. Even Spock appeared to have a somewhat appalled look on his face. "It's bad, isn't it? I wish Housekeeping would get on it."

"That would indeed be most efficacious, Captain," agreed Spock.

Jim, Sulu, and Chekov all picked up their slices and began to take a bite at nearly the same time, all chalking up their strange sinus problems to the horrible smell of the ship. However, the trio soon found their assumptions quite corrected when the spices of the Hell's Breath pizza hit their respective tongues.

Spock, in the middle of another huge bite, did not immediately notice the pained looks of shock and desperation on his shipmate's faces. When he did, however, he frowned in complete puzzlement. "Has the smell gotten to you, gentleman? I must admit, it is quite bad, but it has not worsened much in the last few minutes. So I do not understand - "

The three bolted out of the chair and made a mad dash for the replicator, interrupting him. They had looked completely mad. "I do not understand what has caused their emotions to suddenly go haywire. It is most illogical."

Jim, Sulu, and Chekov, breathing heavily, eyes wild, were in a desperate fight to be first. However, Sulu and Chekov nearly fainted when they got a full blast of Jim's breath, giving him a chance to win the fight, which he instantly seized, pressing the button for the maximum amount of water. Moments later, the replicator was full of cups of water. Jim downed three in about as many seconds, and the two helmsman grabbed the remaining glasses. The trio requested the maximum amount of water five more times before their thoughts grew somewhat coherent again.

"Gentlemen, is everything all right?" asked Spock, having seen the whole rather perplexing display.

"What were you trying to do, Spock, set our mouths in fire?!" demanded Jim hoarsely. He ordered more water.

"I do not understand," said Spock, in the middle of the last piece of that strangely compelling pizza.

"How are you doing that, by the way?" asked Chekov in a strained whisper as he desperately grabbed another glass.

"My mouth is burning just watching you, sir!" said Sulu.

"I do not understand why you all have the sudden need for water. I ate your slices and experienced nothing out of the ordinary."

"Well, apparently Vulcans are immune to extreme spices," surmised Jim. "That pizza made me feel like I was turning into a dragon, the way my mouth was on fire!"

"I am sorry, Captain. I had no intention of setting you on fire. This pizza has become a favorite of mine and my only intention was of sharing it with you. I had the mistaken belief that because I had a preference for it, you would too." Spock stopped. The smell had gotten so bad, he felt a strong desire to leave Jim's presence immediately. It seemed the spices had magnified the smell by a significant amount. "If you will excuse me, I believe I have work to do elsewhere."

Jim turned to his helmsman, who both appeared to be holding their breath. "Yes, Sulu? Chekov?"

"I'm sorry for fighting you, Captain. I'm afraid the thought of water overrode my good sense," gasped Chekov. Sulu nodded in agreement, turning rather green.

"I quite understand. The issue is forgotten. Dismissed, go back to your stations."

Sulu and Chekov ran out like their mouths were still on fire. Jim stared at them a moment, then realized he still hadn't eaten breakfast. He ate, then headed back to the lift.

A woman joined him in the corridor. She wrinkled her nose. Something smelled quite horrible! She glanced around, trying to ascertain where it came from. She soon realized that it came from the Captain! Desperate to get out of his presence, she sped up to the lift.

"Hold, please," said Jim before she could close the doors. He recognized her as Alice from the Quartermaster department.

Alice hid her horror the best she could. "Something smells really bad, sir," she ventured with a gasp, not knowing how to break it to him.

Jim frowned. Everyone seemed to be having breathing problems around him today! "Are you suggesting that I am the source of the smell?"

Seeing his insulted expression, and considering he was the captain, she dared not tell him the truth. "No, sir," she said with the last of her breath.

"Good. I would hate to have to reassign you to Housekeeping to take care of the smell." He left the lift, then Alice slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Jim entered the bridge and sat in the Captain's chair. Sulu and Chekov noticed the horrible smell was back! They glanced at each other, realizing it was the captain. But how to tell him?

A voice came over the communicator. "Engineering to bridge."

"Engineering, this is the captain. Who am I speaking with, and what seems to be the problem?"

"Thomas, sir. Scotty has not come to relieve me yet."

"Very well, I will check it out." Jim turned towards his two helmsman, who, once again, appeared to be holding their breath. "You two haven't had breakfast yet. I'm sorry. Why don't you grab something, and on your way, check on Scotty to see what's holding him up?"

"We'd be delighted, sir," gasped Chekov. Then he and Sulu bolted for the lift.

"I appreciate your instant obedience, gentlemen, but I assure you, there is no need to run!" he called after them. Uhura, unnoticed to the captain, stared longingly after them, wishing she could join them in their escape. She, too, had deduced the source of the smell, and was wracking her brains for a diplomatic way of pointing it out to the Captain.

Spock, meanwhile, observed all of this with fascination. While the smell was indeed difficult to tolerate, it did have the most positive effect of increasing efficiency.

Jim, in the meantime, was contemplating the whole pizza fiasco. "Spock, you said that Bones gave you the pizza?"

"He did indeed, Captain," confirmed Spock.

Jim frowned, rubbing his chin. He was quite sure that Bones was aware of how potent that pizza was. It was probably a Southern recipe of some sort. Which could only mean that Bones had tried to prank Spock and failed. He probably wasn't too happy about that!

"Sickbay to bridge," came McCoy's voice from the communicator.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Jim. "This is the Captain," said Jim so McCoy could hear.

"Sulu and Chekov were just here, bringing Alice with them. They found her unconscious in the lift. There is no obvious reason why that happened."

"I was just with her, and she seemed fine. I'll be right down." Jim left.

Uhura and Spock gasped with relief.

Jim arrived at Sickbay, and found McCoy scanning Alice, who was still unconscious. McCoy turned towards Jim, who was now standing right next to him. He got blasted in the face with the most horrible thing he'd smelled since he made the mistake of driving through the chicken farms of Georgia with the windows rolled down! "My God, man! Jim, you smell like a dead rat's ass!"

"What?! You're saying that disgusting smell is coming from me?!"

McCoy escaped a good distance away to breathe air that was at least somewhat clean. "No doubt about it! Everything smelled just fine until you breathed on me!"

"Is that why everyone's face has been so strained when they were around me today?" mused Jim, calming down slightly.

"Undoubtedly. You said you were in the lift with Alice just now?"

"Yes, I was."

"Well, there's one mystery solved. Anyone who was forced to breathe that in for a length of time would have keeled over."

"Thanks, Bones," said Jim sarcastically.

"Well, there's not denying it! How in the world did you get like that, by the way? What did you eat this morning?"

Jim then remembered what he had intended to speak with McCoy about. "I ate a pizza that nearly burnt my mouth out!" he declared accusingly. "One that I heard you gave to Spock!"

"He still had some left over?" asked McCoy disbelievingly. At the rate Spock had been consuming it, he had doubted it would last long.

"No, he programmed the replicator to make more. Apparently, it's become one of his favorite foods. He offered some to me, unaware of it's potency."

"Well, Jim, I had no idea he would do that! You see, I just wasn't convinced that he didn't have a hand in our controls being switched, so I wanted to get him back. As you can obviously conclude, that unfeeling Vulcan did not react the way I thought he would."

"Well, do try to be more careful next time. My mouth is still burning."

"Here, I've got something that will help with that, and the bad breath too," offered McCoy.

Meanwhile, Sulu and Chekov had eaten and were now on their way to check on Scotty. They were taking their time, wanting to breathe the clean air as long as they could. For the first time, neither of them wanted to be on the bridge. Things just were too intense there right now! With luck, whatever was happening with Scotty would be time-consuming to resolve. It was their only hope!


	8. Strange and Haunting Entanglements

"Scotty!" called Chekov as he buzzed the chief engineer's door.

Scotty screamed, then a CRASH! BOOM! BANG! was heard.

"Scotty! Is everything all right in there?" Chekov called again. "We would be happy to assist you in any way we can! And there is no rush!"

"I'm handling it!" shouted Scotty, an obvious tremor in his voice.

"We insist! We would love to take the time to help you! We are begging you, please!"

Another CRASH! was heard. Sulu and Chekov glanced at each other as they heard Scotty mutter frantically, "I've got to kill it, got to kill those wee beasties!" Then they heard a CRASH! again, along with the sound of breaking glass.

"I think he needs help, and is unable to determine that fact. He sounds unstable," said Sulu.

"Agreed. We'll have to override the door and get in there!" said Chekov. In no time, the two of them rigged the door so it would open. While they did so, they heard muffled swearing.

"What is going on in there?" wondered Sulu.

"Well, we'll find out in just a moment!" responded Chekov.

The door popped open. The duo were about to jump inside, when the sight within made them stop in their tracks.

Scotty's quarters were in complete disarray. Spiderwebs spanned from wall to wall, and by the look of things, it had covered the entire room before Scotty swatted some of them down to clear a path. Broken bottles and equipment were scattered on the floor. Scotty was in a corner, still in his pajamas, brandishing a pillow and a scotch bottle, his hands shaking. He was apparently unaware that the door had opened.

Sulu and Chekov exchanged the "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" bewildered look.

Meanwhile, on the bridge, Uhura was greatly enjoying the clean air. She began humming softly. Even Spock admitted to himself that his breathing was more efficient when the air was composed of its normal elements. He executed his routine scan and picked up something unusual. He flipped the communication switch. "Spock to Captain Kirk," he said.

"This is the Captain," came over the speaker.

"I have picked up what appears to be an alien probe. It is not large, and could be beamed aboard."

"Is it hazardous in any way?" asked Jim.

"Not that I can detect. There is an unusual energy pattern, but it does not seem to be cause for alarm."

"Very well. I'll come up and have a look."

Uhura's eyes widened and she shook her head frantically. Although he did not share her emotion, he understood the sentiment.

"That...will not be necessary, Captain. I could transmit an image of the device to you."

Spock glanced at Uhura. She looked relieved.

Jim, on the other end, grinned a bit embarrassedly. It was unusual for Spock to suggest he stay where he was at, and he knew why. "Spock, I think you'll find that when I come to the bridge, all will be normal," Jim assured him.

"You took care of your problem, then?" said Spock.

"Yes. See you in a bit. Kirk out."

Spock turned back to his scanners to continue monitoring the probe. Within a few minutes, he was joined by Jim and they went over the readings together. "Well, Spock, think we should beam it aboard?"

"It would seem to be a reasonable course of action, considering our prime directive," assured Spock. "We may contact new alien life."

"Yes. Very well." Jim turned on the communicator. "Transporter room. Lock on to that probe and beam it aboard."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

"Spock, come with me." Jim and Spock headed to the transporter room. When they arrived, a three foot tall, black, boxy machine was materializing on the pad. They stared at it for a minute, then approached it. "Well, Spock, what do you make of it?"

"It is not a probe, Captain. It resembles a large piece of debris. However, it still appears to be in somewhat working condition."

"Well, where did it come from? Find out, Mr. Spock."

"Very well, Captain." Spock took extensive readings of the object. He then returned to the bridge with Jim to trace it's trail. He found the coordinates. It was a planet not far away. "Captain, I found the source. It is a planet nearby. Class M, but uninhabited and uncharted."

"If it's from that planet, how did it get out here? And why?"

"Unknown, Captain. It does not appear to have propulsion systems of any sort, certainly not enough to escape the atmosphere. I believe it is debris from an explosion in a space fight that must have crash landed. How it got back into space is scientifically unexplainable. There are no energy trails of any sort that suggest mechanical propulsion. There is an unusual energy reading in the object, but not a life form. I do not have enough data to understand its purpose."

"And there is no life on that planet?"

"None. There are unexplainable energy readings that I have never encountered before, but beyond that, nothing out of the ordinary, and completely dead."

"And yet this thing magically defied gravity to float out to us," said Jim, perplexed. He frowned to himself. He couldn't explain it, but he had a very bad feeling about all this. "Revert to sublight," he told Riley, who was handling the helm while Sulu and Chekov were helping Scotty sort out his problem.

"Captain?" queried Spock.

"Something isn't right," answered Jim.

"May I remind you, that it is of extreme importance that we escort those Ambassadors on time? If they are like Vulcans, as the Admiral says, they will not be impressed if we are late, especially without logical reason to do so. Strange as this piece of debris is, we have no evidence that it is dangerous or important in any way. As much as I personally would also like to investigate, we must do our duty."

"Yes, I know, I just can't explain it, Spock, but there's something about this whole thing that has my hair standing on end. Something is just not - "

"CAPTAIN!" came a distressed shout over the communicator.

"Kirk here," said Jim. He recognized McCoy's voice.

"Captain, one of the crew was found dead. The look on his face was horrible. It's just plain disturbing! From the looks of things, as impossible as it seems, I'd say he died of fright. Don't know what could possibly have scared him so much. Someone who saw him a few minutes before he died said he seemed perfectly fine."

"Investigate it thoroughly, Bones, I want answers. Keep me apprised. Kirk out." Jim leaned on one of his elbows, distressed. Even after all this time, the death of one of his crew always hit him hard.

He turned on the communicator. "Security alert. There may be an intruder of some sort aboard. Be careful, it may be very dangerous. Report to me immediately of any findings. Kirk out."

"You think something was in that debris, Captain?" asked Spock incredulously. "I assure you, there was no life forms of any kind on it, not even a microbe."

"I don't know what to think, Spock, but people do not just spontaneously die of fright! Especially not my crew. They have faced many unknowns over these past few years and none of them has so much as fainted." Except, of course, when he had bad breath, he added sheepishly to himself.

A few tense minutes passed. Then McCoy's horrified voice was heard again. "Captain, another crew member was just found dead. Judging by his expression, and the state of his body, he also died of fright. His expression is horrific, not for the faint of heart. Jim, something has got to be done!"

Jim's expression grew pained and horrified. He met Spock's gaze, drawing strength from it. He straightened. "Mr. Spock, run thorough scans of the ship. I want you to tell me of absolutely anything unusual, no matter how minute." He turned to the communicator. "Security, I want the security tapes nearest to the victims played. I want a thorough accounting of their last minutes, do you hear? Even the most minor of things. On the double!" He switched it off. He waited several more minutes.

"Jim! There's been another death, just like the first two! Same thing as before! Jim, I'm seriously getting the creeps! Something horrific is on this ship!" McCoy's voice was as disturbed as Jim had ever heard it.

"I must agree, Captain. Although there is no scientific basis, it must be logically concluded that these deaths are somehow linked to that space debris that was beamed aboard. Something unknown and sinister is at work here. May I suggest that I take apart the object for closer examination?"

"Do it, Spock, do anything, I just want my crew to stop dying!" said Jim, frustrated.

"I will. The scans are now complete. There are traces of those unusual energy readings in the areas that the dead crew members were found," Spock informed him.

"Could it have killed them?"

"Doubtful, Captain. McCoy did say they died of fright."

"Could it assume some form that might be frightening?"

"It is possible, Captain. But I maintain that it is not a life form."

"Then what is it, Spock?"

"I will now go examine that piece of debris to see if I can find out, Captain." Spock was about to take his ear piece off when he froze. "Did you say something, Captain?"

"No, why?"

"Because someone, or something just whispered to me through the ear piece."

"What did it say?"

"Seven minutes. And I have a theory as to what it means." Spock ran computations through the computer. "As I suspected, each of the deaths occurred seven minutes apart, starting with when we beamed that object aboard. I believe the entity that caused their deaths just informed me that I have seven minutes to live."

The bottom dropped out of Jim's stomach, and all color drained from Jim's face. "No..." he said, horrified. It was like he was caught in a bad dream. A nightmare!

"Another death, Jim. The same as before," said McCoy through the speaker.

"As I expected, it must have just killed, then informed me of my imminent demise," said Spock calmly, as if commenting on the weather.

Suddenly, Jim rose in a fury. "MR. SPOCK!" he almost yelled. "You are NOT going to die, we are going to do something!"

"Nothing stopped the previous deaths, Jim."

"They all died of fright," said Jim desperately. "You don't have emotions, so you can't feel fear!"

"Jim..." said Spock. They both knew he did have emotions from their meld together.

"McCoy could tranquilize you," said Jim frantically. "Yes, then you can't be afraid."

"It may have other methods of killing, Jim," said Spock.

"Well, then, if it just wants you dead, we could fool it! McCoy could give you that injection he gave me to fake my death. Then maybe - "

"That may not be enough. It may have methods of sensing that we are not familiar with."

"Spock! Isn't there anything, anything at all that can be done, to further fake your death?"

Spock stiffened.

Jim knew the expression on Spock's face. It meant he was hiding something. "Spock, you must tell me what can be done. THAT is an ORDER! NOW, Spock!"

"There is considerable risk on your part. It may come after you - "

"DAMN TO HELL the risk, Spock! You only have five minutes left. TELL ME!"

"If I melded with you and gave you my katra - my essence - in addition to McCoy's shots to my body - it may very well fool the creature into believing I'm dead. Although I'll still be linked to my soul, it will not be in my body anymore. If it figures out what happened, however, it may come after you."

"Do it," said Jim, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"If this works, my katra must be returned to me as soon as it is safe, preferably within a day or two. I do not know the effects it will have on you if you keep it longer, because Vulcans only give away their katra when they are about to die."

"Enough talk, Spock, get on with it. Riley, get McCoy here with those shots."

"Immediately, sir," he said.

"When I wake up from the shots, I will still be myself, but weakened until I have my katra back. I - "

"NOW, SPOCK!" ordered Jim.

"Very well." Spock reached forward to meld. Jim stood absolutely still. "Remember," the Vulcan said as he pressed his hands into Jim's face. Jim felt something pass into him. Then Spock let go.

McCoy came along just then, and administered the sedative along with the nerve inhibitor. "Should take effect in a minute or two," he informed them.

"It better, because that's all we've got," said Jim desperately. He locked eyes with Spock. It could be his last moments with his friend. "Do you think it wants something? Maybe if we can somehow give it what it wants - "

"It is possible, Jim," said Spock. "Violence usually has some sort of motive that involves gain."

"Riley, set course for that planet where that debris came from. We might find answers there."

"Yes, Captain," said Riley.

"Warp eight, Riley," ordered Jim.

"Warp eight," Riley assured him.

"Spock," said Jim. His eyes had never left his face. He suddenly found he couldn't speak. He grabbed his friend's upper arms.

"I understand, Jim," assured Spock. And he did. He knew, from their previous meld, what Jim wished to say.

"You must live, Spock. I can't lose you. I need you!" said Jim. "Who else is going to figure out what is going on?"

"You will find the answer, Jim. You always do."

"Always, with your help, Spock. You must survive. That is an order!"

Spock finally passed out from the drugs, falling into Jim's arms and feeling disturbingly dead. Jim held him and shifted him to a more comfortable position. "McCoy, sedate everyone on the bridge except myself and you, then you must leave."

"I can't leave at a time like this - "

"NOW! That is an ORDER!" snarled Jim.

McCoy hurried to obey the orders, then left. Jim eased to the floor, still holding Spock.

A few seconds later, Jim's hair stood on end.

He didn't know why, but he had this gut feeling that whatever it was, it would not hurt him. Nonetheless, it was the most sinister thing he'd ever sensed. It crept towards him, towards Spock. Jim held his friend tighter, feeling extremely protective. He tried to speak, and found it very difficult. There was something paralyzing about the presence. "St-op," he gasped.

The thing crept closer. Jim felt a rising panic. "Wh-at - do - you - wa-nt - ?" he choked out.

The thing was so close, it felt like it was about to touch Spock.

Jim's panic gave way to blind rage. As his rage reached it's peak, the thing took on the appearance of a young but highly sinister girl. She stared at them, expressionless, but even so, gave off an extreme malevolence. "What are you, some kind of vengeful ghost?! GET OFF MY SHIP! DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

She leaned closer. Panic battled with the rage within him, and his grip on Spock increased to his full strength. "What is it that you want?! What are you?!"

She stopped coming closer. Indeed, she could hardly do so, as she floated inches from his face.

"He is my best officer. Why must you kill him?!" he asked brokenly.

"Pinta IV," she whispered. Then she disappeared.

Jim gasped in relief, then turned Spock so he could look at his face. It was expressionless. Jim felt a surge of hope. McCoy had said all the victims looked horrifically terrified in death. Perhaps that thing had been fooled after all? Had they succeeded?

Spock, he knew, would not wake up from the drugs for another several minutes. If he did wake up. Jim tried to shift his thoughts on what to do next. That thing had whispered something... "Pinta IV," he mused.

Just then, Chekov and Sulu returned to the bridge.

"Chekov, find everything and anything you can find in relation to the phrase "Pinta IV," he ordered before they could say anything.

"Yes, sir," said Chekov as he approached the Science station. Jim could hear the computer working. There was nothing more he could do for Spock at the moment. And yet, he was finding it very difficult to leave him. Who knew what horror would happen next!


	9. Pinta IV

It took a minute for Jim to get a grip on himself, but he finally succeeded. He turned to Uhura, who grinned lazily from the sedative. His first concern was the immediate safety of his crew. "Uhura, inform all decks that if they hear 'seven minutes', they must report to me and Dr. McCoy immediately."

"Yes, Captain," she said happily.

Jim listened as she carried out his orders. Her bright manner contrasted greatly with the horrific meaning of her message that she was apparently unaware of.

"Chekov. Find anything?" asked Jim.

"Yes, Captain. Pinta IV was an earth vessel that journeyed out here some fifty years ago. It was named after one of Christopher Columbus's ships. The people on board were to find and settle on a new planet. However, it is unknown what really happened to them, and all contact from them was lost." He wanted to tell the Captain about Scotty, but now did not seem to be a good moment.

"Chekov, I want you to to examine the piece of debris in the transporter room to determine if it could have come from Pinta IV," ordered Jim. "Be very careful. Some unknown force is at work here that has shown nothing but hate towards us."

"Yes, Captain," said Chekov. He left to carry out the order.

Jim glanced down at his First Officer, still in his lap. He wasn't sure what to do to protect him, or if further protection was even needed. Should he still keep him under, to fool that malevolent spirit? Or could he wake him up safely? The spirit did not seem to wish to hurt himself, for some reason. Would leaving Spock alone for a bit be dangerous? Was it only his presence keeping it at bay? There were simply too many questions. He did not feel good about taking further risks with Spock. "Captain to Sickbay. McCoy, any more deaths?"

"No, Captain. Everyone's formed into teams to watch everyone else. It's been more than seven minutes and no one has heard or seen anything."

"All right," said Jim, feeling a bit relieved. He remembered they were heading towards that planet at a great speed. Perhaps that was what it wanted? Or was it Spock's lack of reaction that stopped it? "McCoy, come to the bridge to examine Spock."

"I'll be right up. McCoy out."

Jim turned towards the helm. "Riley, I'm aware that our ship cannot sustain warp eight for long. Reduce speed to warp six."

"Yes, Captain. ETA ten minutes."

McCoy entered a few minutes later and examined Spock. "Well, as far as I can tell, he's still alive under the influence of that drug. Seems we fooled it or prevented that thing from killing him."

Jim sagged slightly in relief.

Chekov entered the bridge. "Captain, the piece of debris could very well have been from the Pinta IV, but there is no way to determine for sure."

"Very well. Let's hope that planet holds some answers for us. McCoy, would it endanger Spock to re-administer the drugs?"

"He'd be all right for a few more doses, but it would be dangerous to keep him under for more than an hour or two."

"Very well. I think that until we get some answers and know for sure what is going on, we should keep him under. It might be the only thing stopping that spirit from attacking."

"All right, but you'd better find some answers fast."

"I have every intention of doing so. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible."

"Captain, we have reached the planet," announced Sulu.

"Very well. Establish standard orbit, Mr. Sulu."

"Orbiting now, Captain."

"Now I need a landing party - "

"What?! You're sending people down there? Jim, have you lost your mind?!" demanded McCoy. "This is the home planet of that thing, there could be more of them!"

"How else am I going to find answers, Bones?" asked Jim. "I refuse to beam anything more aboard this ship after what happened last time. The only logical course of action would be to beam down."

"Logical course of action?" repeated McCoy. Jim was beginning to sound like Spock, and even his body language was beginning to reflect that of his First Officer.

"Yes. It is better that a few are put at risk, rather than the whole ship. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, doctor."

"Jim, what's gotten into you?" demanded McCoy.

"I fail to see the problem, doctor." His expression changed back to normal. "Now, I've decided that myself, along with Mr. Spock equipped with one of your gadgets that will make him walk, and Mr. Chekov will beam down to investigate."

"Jim, I'm not certain in your condition that would be wise. I think that mind meld from the other day has finally gotten to you - "

"Why? Am I acting differently?"

"You're acting and speaking like Spock!"

"Oh, I see. Well, he did tell me that he wasn't sure what the effects of giving me his soul would be."

"WHAT?! That green-blooded hobgoblin put his soul in your head?!"

"Yes, because I ordered him to. I decided it was the best way to fool that evil spirit that he was dead."

"Jim, I think you've gone space crazy! One doesn't just go around giving away and accepting other people's souls! It ain't natural! It ain't right! It goes against -"

"I did what needed to be done, end of story," said Jim a little shortly. "Now, Mr. Chekov, come with me. Dr. McCoy, outfit Spock with that gadget of yours."

"Why are you bringing him with you? He won't be much help in his current state," McCoy pointed out.

"There's too many unknowns right now. It could be that it won't attack him as long as he's with me. They don't seem to want to hurt me for some reason."

McCoy did not comment. Jim followed him to Sickbay, carrying Spock. Once the gadget was on his head, Jim took the controls and directed Spock to follow him. The trio went to the transporter room and Chekov, Jim and Spock beamed down to the planet.

Jim looked around him after they rematerialized. The planet was mostly barren. As he'd expected, debris did indeed dot the landscape, and the air was thick with presences like the one that had appeared to him. His hair stood on end. Getting a grip on himself, he turned towards his helmsman. "Mr. Chekov. Examine the debris. See if you can piece together what ship or ships it came from. Also, find the ship's log if you can. Maybe it will hold the answers we're looking for."

"Yes, Captain," answered Chekov, his voice slightly higher than normal. Apparently, he felt the malevolence as well.

Jim started walking around, making sure Spock stuck close to him. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he had to do something! He had to communicate with the things somehow. He tried the universal translator that he brought with him, but he got no response.

"One of them appeared to me and spoke earlier..." he mused. What had happened? It was threatening Spock. He had been extremely angry. Perhaps anger was the answer? Maybe that was all these beings understood. It certainly had only exhibited hate so far.

He thought about the crew members who had just died for no reason. He thought about the delay the things had caused in an important mission. He thought about how they had threatened Spock. "You DEMONS! Come out where I can see you!"

Dozens of spirits appeared, all their faces blank. "What are you? Where are you from?! What do you want?!"

"Pinta IV," whispered one of the nearest ones.

"Yes, we've covered that already! This all has something to do with that damn ship that disappeared decades ago! That still doesn't explain what you want!"

"Valiant," whispered one in another group.

"Extender III," whispered another.

"Metropolis," another said.

Several more beings whispered names of what Jim assumed were ships. He made a mental note of all of them. Some of them he recognized. "Does this mean that you are the spirits of the crew members?"

They all remained stubbornly silent, which only heightened Jim's rage. "ANSWER ME!"

"Senali killed us," one whispered finally.

"Senali? But that's the name of the race of alien ambassadors I'm about to transport!" Jim said, alarm fighting with his rage.

The malevolence of the spirits heightened to an extent that chilled Jim to the bone. "Kill. Kill Senali," they hissed.

"I can't do that," said Jim, his voice shaky. "They are Ambassadors seeking to make a peaceful alliance with us." Jim's rage lessened and his fear increased. The spirits disappeared, though their presence lingered. Jim turned to Spock. He sure wished that he could ask his friend what he thought.

"Uh, Captain? Permission to speak freely, sir?" asked Chekov. He had returned sometime during his conversation with the spirits.

"Yes, go ahead," said Jim.

"I think you should go to Sickbay."

"Why?"

"You were just having a heated conversation with thin air, sir. And you know Spock isn't in a state to respond."

"You didn't see them?"

"See what?"

"Those spirits. They were talking to me."

"I saw nothing, sir. Nothing but rubble and debris."

"Did you find any of the captain's logs?"

"A few, sir."

"Keep looking. There should be a total of seven of them."

Chekov gave him a confused look. "Yes, Captain." He left to renew his search. He'd prefer to get off this planet as soon as possible, so he did not want to waste time arguing, even if he thought his captain was mentally unstable.

Jim turned back to Spock. Those spirits did not seem interested in him at present, and he had a potentially major problem on his hands. He really needed Spock right now. The Ambassadors were important, and those spirits had certainly proved they were capable of killing. If anyone could think of a way to resolve the situation, it would be Spock. As much as he hated to admit it, he really did need to take the risk of returning his friend to normal. It was his duty.

"Kirk to Enterprise," said Jim into his communicator.

"Uhura here," said his communications officer cheerfully.

"Have Dr. McCoy beam down the antidote to what he drugged Spock with," ordered Jim.

"Right away, Captain!" she giggled.

Jim felt a bit irritated at her attitude, but knew it was only the drugs. It would wear off in a few hours. Within a few minutes, the antidote appeared and he administered it to Spock, keeping a tight hold on him and keeping alert for the demonic spirits. He released Spock from the gadget that was controlling him while he waited for his best friend to wake up.

He saw Spock blink a few times. "Spock, this is Jim. You're on that planet the debris came from. There were no more deaths after their attempt on you. The situation has become grave, and I need your help."

"Yes, Captain," he said, his voice a little weak. "What seems to be the problem?"

"As best as I can figure out, there are a bunch of disturbed spirits from various destroyed ships inhabiting this planet who claim they were killed by the Senali. They are quite determined to kill them in revenge. They have certainly proven they are capable of that, and if they manage to get aboard the ship, it would be disastrous."

"I understand, Captain."

"Well, Spock? Comment? How can we prevent them from boarding the ship?"

"It is difficult to hypothesize with my current data. However, it does seem that they must attach themselves to a physical object to travel, as the one spirit did with the debris. Whether they are limited to their ship's debris, or whether it can be any physical object, is uncertain."

"What is your opinion?"

"It is not in my nature to guess, Captain. But since you requested it, I would be inclined to believe they are limited to their own ship's debris. Earth legends about such spirits suggest this sort of thing."

"Do you think there's any chance we can put them to rest, so they will pass away as all other souls do?"

"Possibly, Captain, but again, any strategies we would be able to come up with would be based on the questionable legends of Earth. It would be risky."

"It's all we've got, Spock."

"Captain, I am feeling weak. I would like to take my katra back."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. It may be that my keeping of your katra is all that is preventing them from killing you. It was risky enough to wake you up as it is. They seem to be a very hostile and determined bunch."

"Captain, I cannot serve you efficiently in my current state. I am willing to take the risk."

"Well, I'm not, Spock. That's final. I'm not giving it back until we're reasonably certain the danger is past."

Jim helped Spock to his feet, and had him sling an arm over his shoulders for support. If it were any other man, Spock would have argued that he had a right to his own soul. However, this was Jim, his captain and his friend. If he were to trust his soul with anyone, it would be him, and was him.

Chekov approached them. "Good to see you up and about again, Mr. Spock," he said. There was something reassuring about having that Vulcan's keen intellect focused on their current problems.

"Did you find anything, Mr. Chekov?" asked Jim.

"Yes, Captain. I have found all seven ship's logs in a surprisingly short time. This rubble looks like it's been rearranged a bit, as unlikely as that sounds, of course. The chances of them all crash landing in this organized manner are astronomical! Here they all are."

"All right, Chekov, good work. Now let's all listen to them and see what we can glean from it."

Listening to the logs was quite grim and did not soothe their uneasy feelings about the planet. Jim wished he could beam them all back to the ship to listen to them, but he dared not beam anything more aboard after what happened last time. While each ship had a different purpose, they were all on peaceful missions when, as those ghosts said, they were attacked by Senali. The Senali did not simply blast them out of the sky; they taunted them before they died, and beamed aboard gases that caused extreme pain, anguish, and nightmarish hallucinations before they finally passed away.

Finally they were done listening to them all. The ensuing silence was eerie. "Well, Mr. Spock. Comment?"

"All of this evidence suggests that these spirits are indeed all that remains of the crew members. Earth legends suggest that when humans experience especially horrific deaths, their spirits tend to linger around their place of death, spreading the hate that was wrought upon them. I have seen nothing to indicate otherwise, in this case."

"How can we lay them to rest? Ideas?"

"It is possible that if we bury the remains of their ships, they would find some peace at last. There is, of course, no logic in this. However, considering that it is a human custom, it is to be expected."

"So you think that if we bury all this, they won't come after the ship?"

"It is possible, Captain, but I am unable to determine for sure at this time."

Jim looked around him at the extensive piles. "Well, that looks like quite a time consuming job. Any suggestions?"

"We could use the ship's phasers to create a large hole. Then we could use the tractor beam to drag everything into it. We also might be able to rig the tractor beam and transporter to move the required amount of dirt and rocks over the mass grave."

"Very well. Let's get back to the ship and get it started."

Unbeknownst to them, it was not just the three of them that beamed aboard the ship. The fourth presence did not want to make his presence known just yet. He wished to wait until the most amusing moment.

Jim had the piece of rubble in the transporter room beamed down and felt the hostile presence go with it. He stuck by Spock's side as he coordinated the burial operation. When it the only thing left was to put the dirt and rocks on top, he decided to go down to the surface for a funeral of sorts for the spirits. He took Spock, Chekov, and Bones with him. "Might as well be thorough," he said to them.

He made a speech, then decided he wanted to attempt to talk to the spirits for what hopefully would be last time. Before he could gather his rage, however, the girl he'd seen on the bridge appeared to him. She smiled for the first time. "I am Jane. It is done," she whispered, then disappeared again.

"Kirk to Enterprise. Finish the burial," he ordered. Within seconds, dirt covered the rubble completely. The sense of malevolence dissolved. They were now the only ones on the planet.

"Well, gentleman, it seems as if our work here is finished. Let's get back to the ship." They beamed back.

Spock nearly collapsed when they landed. Jim had Spock lean onto him again. "Let's get that katra back where it belongs," Jim said.

"Yes, Captain," said Spock. They went to Jim's quarters and they both sat down. Spock mind melded with Jim and took his katra back. They sat there for a minute in companionable silence afterwards, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Spock, what do you think of the Senali situation? They are obviously a cruel race, and yet they are supposed to be like Vulcans. Do you think we should alert Starfleet Command? I am uneasy about letting them aboard the ship when they could be dangerous."

"We have our orders, Captain," said Spock, as if that settled everything.

"Yes, well, after what we've just seen, I still don't like it," complained Jim nervously.

"The situation does not seem ideal to me either," admitted Spock. "All we can do at this point is take the necessary precautions."

"You're right. Captain to bridge. Leave orbit and change back to our original course. Warp four."

"Acknowledged, Captain," said Chekov.

Jim turned back to Spock. "I think you should go to Sickbay to have Dr. McCoy make sure you're all right."

"I assure you, Jim, I am perfectly fine."

"I insist. Let's go."

Spock dutifully followed Jim to Sickbay. He was beginning to see a pattern in Jim's behavior that Earth men tended to compare with a 'mother hen.' Jim seemed most unsettled by everything that had happened, especially to him in his near death experience. He hadn't left him alone since. Spock decided not to comment. He'd found that in Jim's case, patience did have its rewards.

A presence followed them to sickbay. He was waiting for the most amusing moment to reveal himself. Nothing good enough had presented itself to him yet. And Jimmy boy deserved the best! A plan formed in his mind. Yes, that would be delightful. Jimmy boy would go off the deep end! When the Senali came on the ship, he would be sure to come up with something good for them too. They might have killed his body, but nothing could kill his prankster spirit!


	10. The Senali

The next morning, Scotty grumpily cleaned up the remains of the fake spiderwebs. Of course, now he realizes they were fake. He could have really used that knowledge earlier, and saved himself from a lot of embarrassment! Unbidden, the memory of Sulu and Chekov walking in on his disaster surfaced in his mind.

He'd been in his private little world of terror, before Chekov's voice brought him out of it. "Uhh...Scotty?"

"I'm a little busy right now, lads," responded Scotty irritably.

"Yes, I can see that. Don't worry, we'll find those nasty multi-legged creatures. Right Sulu?"

"Right," said Sulu.

The duo had batted down the webs with considerably less concern that Scotty had. It was Sulu who had finally found the foul web-spinner, apparently dead on the floor. They poked at it to be sure, then Sulu picked it up. "It's fake," he announced disbelievingly.

"That's not all that surprising," said Chekov.

"And what do you mean by that?" demanded Scotty, the word 'fake' still resounding in his mind.

"Well, what I mean is, it would be nearly impossible for a real web spinning insect to show up out of the blue like this. I mean, we haven't been to a planet that would be capable of sustaining such life in some time, and if a real one had made it aboard, we would have encountered it before now. So I don't really understand your panic, Mr. - "

"Well, what else was I supposed to do when my room was covered with those horrible webs? Surely you can appreciate that web-spinners are quite horrible beasties!"

Chekov and Sulu exchanged a glance, trying to hold back their laughter and failing.

"You are afraid of spiders?" asked Sulu incredulously. It seemed impossible that someone as gutsy as Scotty could be terrified by something typically smaller than his hand!

"And why not?! Some of those things are poisonous!"

Sulu and Chekov laughed again.

Scotty felt his embarrassment and irritation rise. "Aren't you two supposed to be on the bridge?"

That sobered the two up immediately. "Eh, actually, we were sent to help you with whatever problems you were having in getting ready for your shift. Thomas called and said you were late."

"I see," said Scotty grumpily. He felt another spiderweb brush him and he jumped.

Chekov and Sulu exchanged another disbelieving smirk at his alarmed expression. They started to help clean out the spiderwebs, but it wasn't long until they were interrupted by the intruder alert and had to leave. Scotty had also left at that point, now clothed in his uniform.

He had no time to finish cleaning his quarters until now. Despite knowing the spider was fake, he did not enjoy picking it up for closer examination. It was apparently a very sophisticated robot. There was, of course, only one person, other than himself, who was knowledgeable enough to manufacture such a thing.

That damn Vulcan!

It had been completely unprovoked! In fact, he'd just helped him out with his little prank on the Captain and Dr. McCoy, and this was the thanks he got! Well. This called for bit of revenge!

He plotted as he finished tidying his quarters. He decided the best pranks were the simple ones. Finished with his work for now, he headed for the replicator to manufacture the necessary items for his plan.

Meanwhile, Jim was brushing his teeth with a puzzled expression. That smell from yesterday was back! Could it be....? He picked up his tube of toothpaste and peered into it, as if it would give him answers. Then he sniffed it. The smell indeed was originating from his toothpaste! "It's defective," he muttered to himself, throwing it out. He washed his mouth out thoroughly and used a different toothpaste after making sure it didn't smell too. He would ask Scotty to check the replicators.

As he made his way to the bridge and settled himself into his captain's chair, he contemplated the strange dream he'd had the night before, about Finnegan of all people! He could only assume it was a result of the extensive pranking that had been bandied about lately.

He glanced around the bridge, his gaze settling on Spock for a moment. McCoy said yesterday that he was fine. After they had put considerable distance between them and that planet, he felt a lot more relaxed about his First Officer's well being.

"Captain, we have arrived at the coordinates for the Senali Ambassadors," announced Chekov as a planet appeared on screen.

"Very good, establish standard orbit and prepare to beam up the Ambassadors," ordered Jim. "Signal to them that we are ready to pick them up."

"Aye sir," responded Uhura and Chekov, carrying out the orders.

"Mr. Spock, come with me to the transporter room to greet our guests," said Jim.

"Yes, Captain," said Spock. They arrived in the transporter room and waited patiently for their new arrivals. Jim's posture was tense and somewhat anxious; Spock's expression revealed nothing. Within a few minutes, three figures materialized on the pad. Now they would meet their potentially dangerous guests.

They were three - females. Beautiful humanoid females, at that.

Somehow, that wasn't what Jim was expecting, after all he had heard about them. They didn't look very ominous. Unusual, maybe. All three had purple hair of varying lengths, with purple eyes to match. Their eyebrows were upswept like the Vulcans. He glanced at their ears. They were rounded.

"I am Niladri," the sternest looking one said. "These are my assistants, Odessa and Naliim."

"Greetings, and welcome to the Enterprise," said Jim. "I am Captain James T. Kirk, and this is my First Officer, Mr. Spock." He noted that Odessa was the prettiest of the Senali and smiled biggest for her, his gaze lingering a moment.

For some reason, Nil raised a condescending eyebrow. Odessa's eyes betrayed confused amusement. Nal looked....bored. Jim glanced at Spock, whose eyebrow was also raised. "Captain, perhaps it would be best if I now show them to their quarters?" he said.

"Yes, that would be acceptable. Please do," said Jim. He shot Spock a questioning look as his friend's eyes betrayed laughter tightly in check. Spock shook his head minutely in reply and turned to lead the Senali to their assigned quarters. Jim watched them go with a confused frown. All he'd done was greet them! What was going on? He pursed his lips together in puzzlement and decided to shrug it off for now. Maybe he could get Spock to explain later. He now needed to head to the bridge to oversee their leaving orbit and new heading of Star Base 12.

He'd just entered the bridge when he lost his balance and fell face down on the floor. He lay still for a moment, stunned. Then he raised himself quickly and glanced around, trying to find out what tripped him. There was nothing there! He'd walked that path a thousand times. Why in the world did he trip?

"Are you all right, Captain?" asked Uhura.

"Yes, I'm fine. Leave orbit, Mr. Sulu. Warp factor six. Lay in a course for Star Base 12."

"Course laid in, sir."

"Activate," he ordered, settling into his chair.

"Activating now, sir."

"Captain, we are receiving a transmission from Star Fleet Command," said Uhura after a few minutes.

"Patch it through," responded Jim, rubbing his forehead. He'd hit it particularly hard when he'd tripped earlier. Then he straightened as the image of Admiral Sheridan came on screen. He allowed himself a smile. He liked this man. "Admiral Sheridan, it's been a while."

"Captain Kirk, pleasure to talk to you again. Have the Senali Ambassadors come on board yet?"

"Yes, they are on board and we are headed to Star Base 12 as we speak."

"I look forward to seeing you then. I am currently on that Star Base to oversee the treaty."

Jim widened his smile. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll buy you a drink!"

"That would be very welcome. Oh, and when you get here, Star Fleet Command already has another assignment for you. You are to escort Olympians from various teams to the first Intergalactic Olympics. You are to oversee their safety for the two weeks they are there, then bring them back to Star Base 12. We believe that a successful, safe Olympics with all the alien races participating will help promote peace and good relations between the various planets."

"We welcome the opportunity. I look forward to the new mission. We'll see you soon. Kirk out."

The transmission ended. Spock entered the bridge then, his errand with the Senali having been completed. "Mr. Spock, are our guests satisfied with their situation?"

"They made no indication either way," said Spock. "I find their logical approach to be a refreshing change compared to many of our other guests."

"Very good, Mr. Spock." He leaned back in his chair, pleased with how smooth things were going. Then McCoy's voice came over the comm, interrupting them. "Captain, can I have a word with you?"

"Yes, I'll be down in a minute," Jim responded. "Spock, will you come with me?" He wanted to ask what had happened on the transporter pad.

"Yes, Captain," said Spock. The two men entered the lift.

"Spock," said Jim when they were alone. "What happened in the transporter room, when I greeted the Senali?"

Spock's eyes glimmered strangely when he answered him. "Two sections of your hair on either side of your head spontaneously rose, resembling horns."

"You're joking."

"Vulcans do not joke. I have no explanation at this time for the phenomenon."

"Do let me know if anything like that happens again," said Jim. The memory of tripping on the bridge surfaced in his mind. He wondered if there was some kind of connection. Well, there wasn't much he could do about it right now, and it didn't seem to be too dangerous at this point anyway, whatever it was. Besides, he was sure Mr. Spock would keep a good eye out.

"Of course, Captain."

Speaking of things he'd been meaning to ask..."Let's stop by Engineering first," said Jim, remembering his toothpaste. "I want to talk to Scotty for a minute." He wished he'd seen Scotty's reaction to the prank. Unfortunately, he had been busy. In the end, he did not need to go to engineering to find Scotty, for he ended up finding him already working on the replicator. Scotty gave them both a strange look when they arrived. If Jim didn't know better, he'd say he looked guilty. "Scotty, good, I see you are already working on the replicators."

He looked strangely relieved. "Aye sir, I figured they could use a few adjustments."

"Yes. Check the settings for the toothpaste. I got a defective tube that gave off a foul smell."

"Aye sir, I'll be right on it. In fact I'm working on the toiletry section right now."

"Good. Good work, Scotty. I'll see you later. I've got to talk to Dr. McCoy."

"Thank you, sir. You'll have a good tube in no time."

Jim smiled to himself as he left. Good ole Scotty, he could always count on him! He glanced at his First officer. He, too, had a look on his face that was strangely like Scotty's, although it was of course very muted. "Something wrong, Spock?"

"All is well, Captain," assured Spock, not quite looking at him in the eye.

Strange. Spock hadn't been that twitchy since he thought he was wearing female clothes. Oh well, if he wanted to tell him about it, he would come to him eventually, as he had before. Patience tended to pay off considerably with his Vulcan friend.

They arrived in Sickbay a few minutes later, where they were immediately accosted by McCoy. "Jim...oh and you're here too Spock, good. We have a problem."

"Oh? What's the matter?" asked Jim.

"Well, it seems those mechanical spiders did not turn off as planned and are now running loose on the ship. I found one in my room, but I wasn't able to catch it before it crawled through the ventilation shaft. I just hope they don't end up in the Ambassadors rooms. Of course, considering what they are, it probably wouldn't faze them a bit."

"Considering what they are?" questioned Spock.

"They terrorized a dozen ships, didn't they? And who knows what else! Even the Klingons don't have that level of sadism, that we know of. You do have them under guard, don't you?"

"We do not. The terrorists may be been renegades. For all we know, those acts might not reflect on their race as a whole. We do not have enough data to form a solid hypothesis about them."

"I see! Well, just because you've joined their fan club, Mr. Spock, doesn't mean I think it's a good idea! They should be kept under twenty-four hour surveillance. Or have you forgotten the results the last time their race came in contact with ours?! Come see those corpses for yourself. It's a wonder I haven't had nightmares from them! The safety of the crew is at stake."

"We have no evidence that these females are dangerous. In fact, I have found them to be quite rational and logical. It is most refreshing."

Jim, in the meantime, was about to sit down in a chair when suddenly it wasn't there anymore. He fell backwards onto his butt with a startled yelp. A glance around inform him the chair was further behind him than he'd realized. Or had it somehow moved on its own?

His two friends forgot their debate and turned towards him. "Are you all right, Jim?" asked Spock.

"Are you dizzy?" asked McCoy, trying to discern the cause as he scrutinized Jim. "It's not like you to be clumsy. Have you eaten enough lately?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," said Jim, grabbing the chair and carefully settling into it. He debated with himself whether to tell them about the similar incident on the bridge. It was quite strange, yet he didn't want to be fussed over.

"You're worried and distracted about having those Senali aboard, aren't you? Well, I don't blame you," concluded McCoy.

That was possible. He was still a bit apprehensive about them, though that emotion had never made him clumsy before. "You may be right. Perhaps I should invite them, along with you both, and Scotty to dinner so we can learn more about them."

The communicator began beeping. Jim walked over. "Kirk here," he said.

"This is Ambassador Niladri. A strange creature is making strands of an unknown substance in our quarters and I demand an explanation."

The trio exchanged glances. Star Base 12 couldn't come quickly enough!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love this story, I'm not sure if/when I will update it. Currently my muse is interested in the All Along series. Regardless, I hope it gave you a good laugh! Comments are always welcome.


	11. The End?

 

All the senior officers of the Enterprise gathered around a conference table. Once they were all seated, Jim started to speak. "Well, gentlemen, it's come to my attention that there is a war going on among us. Good natured and well intentioned though it may be, it has now started to interfere with official Starfleet duties. Therefore, I'm calling an end to it, right here, right now. If any of you have set up a prank of any kind, please come forward. No disciplinary action will be taken unless I hear of pranks continuing after we leave this room. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of "Yes Captain!"

"Very good. Well? Anybody?"

"Eh, Mr. Spock, you better get some new shampoo bottles. That's all I'm sayin'," admitted Scotty.

"Very well, Mr. Scott," agreed Spock.

Everyone stared at Scotty curiously.

"When he used his shampoo next, it would have died his hair pink," explained Scotty after an uncomfortable silence. "It's not against regulation!"

"All right, Mr. Scott, no harm done," responded Jim smoothly. "Anyone else?"

No one came forward.

"All right. Meeting adjourned."

They all filed out of the room. "Pink, eh?" said Chekov to Scotty. "Darn. I wish I could have seen that."

"Well, it's back to business," said Scotty in reply. He was relieved, in a way. He sure didn't want another incident like the one with the spiders!

Jim was the last out the door. He was quite relieved that this was over with, though he had to admit, it was fun while it lasted. Until he had to explain to the Senali, what, exactly, the spiders had been doing in their room. He explained it as a science experiment gone awry. Thankfully, their people were highly scientific, and seemed to understand. He knew he might not be so lucky next time, so he called off the pranks.

He felt in his pocket for his PADD, in order to update his Captain's log. However, it wasn't there. Strange. This was the third time today that he'd somehow misplaced a PADD. Then there were those tripping and falling incidents.

Maybe he really SHOULD have Bones check him out.

He hated the idea, yet he refused to be a liability to his ship just because of his stubborn pride. He made his way down – the elevator stopping at the wrong floor at first – then settled into one of McCoy's biobeds in resignation.

A half hour later, Bones gave up. "Well Jim, there just isn't anything wrong with you. Maybe it's stress. Lord knows we've been through a lot! Take some time off. Let Spock handle things for awhile."

"What about the dinner tonight? I still have to go to that," Jim insisted.

"It's nothing that Spock can't handle. I mean it, Jim."

Jim didn't like the prospect, especially when the Ambassadors were on board, but what choice did he have? He clearly wasn't at his peak. "All right, Bones."

"I'll tell Spock. You go to your quarters and rest."

Jim made his way to his quarters, but when he arrived at his hall, his door wasn't where he expected it to be. "My door is on the right, not the left," he mumbled to himself, yet, his nameplate was on the left side! He entered. Sure enough, all his things were in there. "This can't be," Jim denied, yet, there it all was!

Deeply unsettled, Kirk switched on his communicator. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here."

"Can you come up here for a minute?"

"Yes, Captain. I am on my way."

Within minutes, Spock arrived. "Fascinating," he commented as he entered.

"It's not just me, then?"

"No. Captain, I believe this is linked to the incident in the transporter room."

"My thoughts exactly! Think that the Ambassadors have something to do with it? Things have been very strange for me since their arrival."

"It is possible," granted Spock. "However, I am uncertain what would motivate them to do such a thing, and why they would focus their efforts only on you."

"Well, if they're trying to drive me insane, I think it's beginning to work." He described to Spock everything that happened that day.

"Captain," started Spock hesitantly.

"Go ahead Spock, I'm open to anything," encouraged Jim.

"If I may meld with you, I might see something about these instances that you have missed."

"Go ahead, Spock," invited Jim.

Spock raised a brow slightly at how casually Jim accepted these melds. Nevertheless, he sat and got down to business with it, flicking through Jim's memories, his brows drawing together.

When Spock withdrew, Jim asked, "Well?"

"A theory, Captain. I shall return." Spock left the room, presumably to hunt down his lead.

With nothing else to do, Jim lay down on his bed and made shadow shapes on the wall. No one knew of this stress relieving quirk of his, not even Spock. He'd done it ever since he was a child, whenever he needed to get his mind off things.

When he heard the door swish open, he quickly dropped his hands. "Mr. Spock," Jim greeted his First Officer.

"Captain. I have uncovered a possibility. I theorized that we might not have left all of the spirits behind. One of them might have had a personal connection with you, and followed you back to the ship. I cross referenced the files of the ship's passengers and crew with yours. As I suspected, there is a match. Does the name Sean Finnegan sound familiar?"

"Finnegan! Yes, he was quite the prankster. I just dreamed about him last night in fact. You mean…" trailed off Jim, his eyes bugging out in horror.

"I do believe, Captain, that Finnegan has joined us in the form of a poltergeist. It is only a theory, however, I do believe that it is one that can be proven or disproven in reasonable time."

"Finnegan the poltergeist," Jim repeated faintly. And he'd thought Finnegan was bad enough when he was alive!

"Captain, may I suggest you remain off duty until this situation has been resolved. If it is indeed Finnegan, we do not know what he may do next. He could endanger the crew and the Ambassadors."

"You're right, Mr. Spock. But I'll be damned if I let Finnegan keep me from doing my job!" he swore heatedly.

"I will do all I can, Captain," assured Spock. He exited the room, his mind already churning with ideas. Perhaps some kind of radiation might banish Finnegan.

Jim, meanwhile, turned to his computer screen, only to see:

"HA! HA! HA! You'll never catch  _me,_  Jimmy boy!"

"Oh, I will, Finnegan! I will!" vowed Jim.

Later, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, and Uhura sat with the Ambassador and her assistants at the dinner party.

"Is Captain Kirk all right?" asked Odessa.

"Yes, don't worry. He's just a little under the weather. He sends his apologies," McCoy explained.

"Oh, well I hope to talk with him soon. I want to hear more about his missions. Even we have heard how legendary they are!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, darlin', I could tell you about a few of mine," said McCoy.

"Please do," replied Odessa.

Meanwhile, Spock was chatting with Nilhadri. "What forms of meditation do you use?"

"Meditation?" asked Nil, with a slight quirk of her brow.

"Yes. Do you do it daily, or does weekly suffice?"

"We don't meditate. Our brains do not… cope with it well," Nil said.

"Fascinating," said Spock, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

Scotty was trying to get a bored Naliim in the spirit of things by talking science, which he discovered she had a passion for. It took all of his charm, but he managed to get her to crack a smile now and then. The only thing she seemed interested in was talking about the ship, which suited him just fine.

Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov talked amongst themselves.

"What is wrong with the Captain?" wondered Chekov. "He seemed just fine when I saw him a few hours ago. And Spock has had me do all these weird scans in his vicinity."

"Maybe it has something to do with those spirits we encountered," debated Sulu.

"I think you're right. Spock has me scanning all frequencies for anything out of the ordinary. I did think I picked up some weird laughter on one. Spock listened to it, and then asked me to do other things," offered Uhura.

"A laughing ghost?" stated Chekov skeptically.

"Who knows? We've encountered stranger things," Sulu pointed out.

"But what does it have to do with the Captain?" Uhura wondered.

Meanwhile, Jim was researching everything to do with poltergeists on the computer. Some of the suggestions – like leaving salt out – seemed absurd, but he tried them anyway. There had to be something he could do.

He was so intent that he almost missed his underwear drawer opening.

Most of his underwear was standard issue black briefs, but he did keep one or two that ex-girlfriends had given him. One of them said, "Hot Kirk Ass." It was this particular one that was now wiggling its way out of the drawer.

"What?" said Jim in shock. The garment did a mocking, wiggling dance in midair, before heading towards the door.

"Hey, wait a second – " said Jim, getting up.

The door opened and the underwear floated out to the hall.

"HEY!" Jim screamed, sprinting after it. If it didn't have his name on it, it wouldn't be so bad – he could pretend it wasn't his. But this was just plain embarrassing!

Jim ran after it like a madman, yelling, swearing, and leaping at it. He hated giving Finnegan the satisfaction, but, he  _had_  to get that underwear! It wouldn't do for the diplomats to see this! Maybe if he let the poltergeist have his fun, he'd tire of it before the dinner was over.

To his horror, Finnegan steadily made his way to the dinner hall.

"Finnegan!" hissed Jim irately when he was led just outside the door. "Enough! You loved Starfleet, didn't you? It's one thing to embarrass me – it's another to cause a diplomatic incident!"

The underwear made for the door.

"No!" said Jim, much louder than he intended.

"Excuse me, I'll check it out, do not worry," assured Chekov, when they were startled by a crazed yell outside the room.

The young navigator hurried to the door and stepped through, making sure it closed behind him. He turned around and was nearly knocked over by…

…The captain with underwear on his head?

"Captain?" questioned Chekov.

Jim snatched the underwear from his head and hid it behind his back.

"All is well, carry on," Jim assured him, red and flustered.

"Are you feeling better? Will you be joining us?"

"No. Uh, top secret mission. Don't tell anyone."

"Of course, Captain!" said Chekov, straightening. "I'll go right back in and tell them it was nothing!"

Jim decided he would promote Chekov at the first opportunity.

Chekov marched back in and did exactly as he said, though he secretly wondered why the captain would bring an extra pair of underpants on a secret mission.

The moment Chekov was gone, Finnegan wrenched the underwear from Jim's hands and whipped down the hall at top speed.

"HEY! You've had your fun!" Jim protested.

Jim chased it until it hovered just outside the Ambassador's rooms. Oh, no. The last thing he needed was for Finnegan to plant it somewhere in there. That would almost be worse than the dinner!

The poltergeist seemed to come to a decision, and then whipped into the room on the left – Odessa's room, if he remembered correctly. The pretty one. Jim quickly glanced around before diving in after it.

Finnegan led him on a merry chase through the room, before settling between the mattress cushions.

Chest heaving, Jim reached in and grabbed it. As he did, his hands also closed around a metal object. He pulled it out along with his underwear. "It looks like a data chip," mused Jim. Why would she hide a data chip in between her mattress cushions? Should he leave it here, or should he investigate it? If he took it, she'd know someone had been here. But yet, here was an opportunity to see what, if any, connection they had to those destroyed ships.

He decided he would copy the information to the computer and did so quickly at Odessa's terminal, saving it into a secret file. Then he replaced it and hurriedly marched back to his room, underwear stuffed firmly in his pocket. Finnegan, at least, seemed done tormenting him for now, so he made it back unscathed.

Finnegan, however, was none too pleased at Chekov's professional reaction to his captain. He'd spoiled his fun! He would definitely be paying him a visit. He just had to find the best way to embarrass him!

* * *

Despite the chapter title, it is not the end! I have decided to finish this story. Hope you all enjoy!


	12. Dyes and Drips

 

"Ah," said Chekov in satisfaction, stepping out of the shower the next morning. There was nothing like a hot shower to start the day!

He toweled himself off, thinking about the coming shift. He had to make some course adjustments around a nebula while still getting them to the Starbase on time. Tricky, but doable. He climbed into his uniform, making preliminary calculations in his head. He loved his job! There was nothing better in the galaxy! He grabbed his comb, and then looked into the mirror. He liked to look smart.

"ACK!" he screamed, dropping the comb. His hair was  _pink!_  "No! And my shift starts in twenty minutes!" What was he going to do? How did this happen? He had to do something! He couldn't go out looking like this. There was nothing for it. He'd just have to shave it all off and hope no one noticed the pink tinges. He had no time for anything else.

He started up his shaver and thought furiously about how this could have happened. Hadn't Scotty confessed to planting shampoo bottles in Spock's shower to dye his hair pink? One of them must have planted them in his shower! "I bet it was Scotty. He must still be mad that I laughed at him about the spiders!"

But hadn't the captain told them to call off the pranking? Maybe he should report it.

Resolved, Chekov finished shaving his head and marched out the door to the Captain's quarters. He usually didn't bother him there, but he wanted to be discreet about this. As he approached, he heard some crashing, banging, and swearing in the cabin across from the captain's. When he reached the captain's door, however, it did not have his nameplate on it. Confused, the ensign glanced around and found the nameplate instead on the door where all the ruckus was coming from.

"Funny, I thought his cabin was on the other side," said Chekov, and then decided to shrug it off. He cautiously approached the door, reminded strongly of approaching Scotty's door days ago. The captain, however, sounded decidedly more angry than scared.

Chekov hovered uncertainly. Maybe this was a bad time? But the captain was due to go on shift any second, just like he was. He rang the buzzer.

The door opened seconds later. The captain's face was flushed, his hair in disarray, as was the room. "Chekov," he said in barely restrained anger. "I'm just doing some paperwork. What do you need?"

"Uh, maybe this is a bad time?" said Chekov. He knew the captain couldn't be angry at him, but clearly he had a lot on his mind.

"If it can wait, I would be grateful," the captain admitted.

"Yes sir, I can talk to you later," agreed Chekov.

"Dismissed, I will see you later."

Chekov nodded and left. What was going on with the Captain? And what should he do about Scotty? With the Captain having to deal with the Ambassadors and who knew what else, he hated bothering him with it.

Maybe he should just take matters into his own hands. If he just did something small and untraceable, it wouldn't be so bad, would it? Lost in thought, he didn't notice the strange looks people were giving him.

When he took his post at the navigation console, he finally noticed Sulu staring at him. "What happened to your hair?"

"I decided to shave it off," said Chekov shortly.

"I see," said Sulu, wondering why the fuzz left looked so pink.

"The girls dig it," added Chekov as an afterthought.

"Got your eyes on one of the Ambassadors?" teased Sulu.

"Be quiet," chided Chekov, secretly relieved. He preferred to have everyone think that than to know the truth. Now if he could just think of what to do to Scotty.

The shift dragged on. They were informed the Captain was off duty until further notice; Chekov made his course adjustments; Spock asked him what he thought about different kinds of radiation. Uhura grew bored and began humming to herself, rhythmically tapping in time to whatever music was in her head. While Chekov enjoyed her singing, her prolonged tapping could get annoying.

Eureka! That was it! He knew just how to get Scotty back.

"Captain," said Spock to Jim minutes later through the communicator. "I have the results you asked for."

"Very well, join me in my quarters," replied Jim. Spock rode the lift down to Kirk's quarters and once they were settled, Jim asked, "What did you find?"

"The computer was unable to completely decode the file you wanted. However, if given enough time, I believe I can decipher it."

"Make it a priority. What about Finnegan?"

"I have not found a way to banish him. However, I believe I might be able to contain him for transport, if my theories are correct."

"Make that a priority too," said Jim, his voice coming out more pleading than he liked. "I'm doing my best to get work done in here, but he's not making it easy." He wanted his paperwork to be more exciting. Well, now it was!

"I will do my best, Captain," promised Spock.

"I'm just glad he's not targeting any of the crew," muttered Jim. It was bad, but it could be so much worse! "Or you. He must know your plans, yet he's leaving you alone."

"It is not the only curious thing. You said he lead you right to the data chip that we are trying to decipher. It's possible that pranking you is not the only item on his agenda. Perhaps, if he is indeed a victim of the Senali, he wishes for vengeance. Also, Captain, it is not just Finnegan who has been exhibiting strange behavior. I have noticed some strange inconsistencies with the Ambassadors, as has McCoy."

"Really? What has been happening?"

"When I inquired what their preferred meditation is, they told me they never do, that they physically cannot. In all my studies of various races, the ones with disciplined minds always practice some form of meditation. McCoy told me that there is no scientific basis for their claim of disability. Also, he believes that their appearance has been surgically altered to resemble Vulcans. He noticed they all have tiny scars around their eyebrows consistent with a rudimentary method to make them upswept. Additionally, Odessa has repeatedly inquired after you. She is not happy that I will not allow any of them to see you. While I understand their position, it is strange that she, instead of the Ambassador, is the one being insistent."

The last thing they needed to see was Finnegan flinging Jim's underwear about. "You're right, it is strange. Keep me informed," requested Jim.

"Yes, Captain. I will continue my research."

"Thank you, Spock. Dismissed."

When Spock stepped out of Spock's quarters, Odessa was right there waiting for him.

"Can I help you?" asked Spock, resisting the urge to quirk a brow.

"I'm here to see the Captain," said Odessa.

"His is indisposed. If you need something, take the matter up with me," stated Spock. His sensitive ears picked up muffled swearing; he hoped that, her superior hearing, like her other Vulcan qualities, was false as well.

"I'd like to see McCoy then," she said, looking very put out.

"Very well. I assure you, the moment the Captain becomes available, I will inform you."

He delivered her to SickBay and was about to return to the Bridge, when he felt a curious tugging on his left ear.

"Curious," muttered Spock. "Finnegan?"

There was a sharp answering tug. Humans and their obsession with his ears!

"What do you require?"

He felt Finnegan pull him by the ear to the left hall, so he followed the feel until he was led to a stop in front of Odessa's door. Then Finnegan tugged his ear forward, his intentions clear.

"It is against regulation to enter the quarters of the Ambassador and her entourage without due cause," protested Spock. Such as chasing floating underwear, as in the captain's case.

He felt a sharp smack on his bottom.

"Your juvenile antics do not justify this course of action," he insisted firmly to the poltergeist. "If there is something you wish to tell me, you will have to find another way."

He distinctly felt a raspberry being blown in his ear. Then something came barreling out of Odessa's quarters and smacked into his chest with more force than necessary. Spock caught the tiny black tubular object in his hands, turning it around and around. "Curious." He pulled out his tricorder and scanned it. Whatever it was, it was completely unfamiliar to him. He took a closer look at the readings. There was something vaguely familiar about the pattern, but he could not place where he'd seen it before. It would require further investigation. "I have examined it. Return it where you found it."

The object was yanked out of his hands and bonked him in the head before zipping back to where it came from. Spock raised a brow and continued on his way to the bridge to analyze his readings. Perhaps this analysis would help him in some way to decode the data chip.

Scotty joined him in the lift. "Uhura says she needs some adjustments to her station," he explained to Spock.

"Why did you not delegate the task?" inquired Spock. It was a well-known fact that Scotty preferred to stay holed up with his engines.

"Aye, that I could, but I'm never too busy for Uhura," assured Scotty, a bit defensively.

Spock raised a brow. To his understanding, he was inferring a romantic interest in Uhura. He'd never shown the slightest interest before. Something else was going on. Naliim had been following Scotty around. Perhaps he sought to escape from her? Spock stepped off the lift and took his station, filing away the matter for now.

"Mr. Chekov, what happened to your hair?" asked Scotty.

"It's  _not against regulation,_ " hissed Chekov, seeming to imply something.

What was he on about? What did  _he_  have to do with shaving his head? "Well, some chicks dig it," responded Scotty affably, shrugging and setting to work on Uhura's console.

Chekov let the matter drop. After all, he'd get his revenge tonight!

That night, Scotty settled into bed with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. What a day! Engineering was always busy, but after getting behind schedule and being shorthanded with the horrible losses of a few days ago, it was even more hectic. They were really pushing the engines. Not to mention Naliim! Always asking questions, many of which were of a sensitive nature, so he had to deflect them. If she wasn't part of important negotiations, he would have kicked her out. Never had he been so glad to hear Uhura's voice, calling for help on the bridge. Aye, a day like that would run anyone ragged! He was very much looking forward to a good night's sleep.

Drip, drip.

Silence.

Drip, drip.

"What the devil?" muttered Scotty. They didn't have any plumbing. Their water was replicated! Where could it be coming from? Or, what if it  _wasn't_  water? "Maybe it will stop."

But the infernal dripping continued at regular intervals, preventing Scotty from falling asleep.

"That's it! I'm finding out where it's coming from!" He jumped out of bed. It better not be his still leaking. He was saving it for a good binge once the Ambassadors were gone.

He checked his still and everywhere else in his room, but he simply could not find the cause of the sound! He was the best engineer on the ship, dammit. He could figure this out!

He took out his scanner and had it measure sound vibrations in the air until he narrowed it down to the dripping, which, he supposed, he should have done in the first place. "AHA! It's coming from the closet!"

He opened the door and felt around everywhere inside. The sound was getting louder! "I've got you now, laddie," he grumbled. His fingers closed around…

…a sound chip?

"What the devil?" exclaimed Scotty in confusion. "Why is there a data chip playing dripping water in my closet?" His mind traveled back to yesterday's meeting. This was some kind of prank, but they'd agreed to give them up! Who had done this? "Maybe Mr. Spock wanted to get me back for trying to dye his hair pink," he speculated doubtfully. He didn't want to bother the captain with this, especially with everything going on. He'd get to the bottom of the mystery, and deal with the prankster himself!

* * *

A bonus chapter today for it taking so long! Hopefully it is still funny. :)


	13. StarBase 12

The next day was the day they'd all been waiting for: their arrival at Starbase 12! Even Spock looked ready to smile. Dealing with the poltergeist would be a lot easier without the Ambassadors around.

Except they hit a snag.

"I would like to stay on board," announced Odessa, entering the Bridge against protocol. "Nilhadri gave me permission. I would like to go to the Intergalactic Olympics."

"I will have to clear it with the Captain," said Spock, to stall for time. Perhaps they could contact Admiral Sheridan, explain the situation, and have him change her mind. Or better yet, find a different ship to take her. He wasn't sure that they'd even still be going unless they could contain Finnegan.

"May I see him?" she asked.

He wondered if stubbornness was a trait of her species, or just her. "He is indisposed. I will discuss the matter with him at my first opportunity."

She nodded and left for Sickbay.

"Chekov, you have the Bridge. I will be on the StarBase, meeting with Admiral Sheridan," stated Spock, rising from the Captain's chair.

"Yes, sir," said Chekov.

Spock made his way to the StarBase conference room in quiet contemplation of how to explain the peculiar events of the past several days. Not only that, but he wished to persuade Sheridan to delay their departure until he completely decoded the data chip. One more day, and he would have it.

Spock arrived in the conference room, where Sheridan greeted him with a ta'al and smile. Spock nodded respectfully and returned the ta'al. Though he had no emotions on the subject, he admitted to himself that he had a slight… preference for Sheridan over other Admirals.

"Glad you made it. I hear you had a rough time of it," said Sheridan as he sat down.

"We have been having some difficulties," admitted Spock, outlining them all in detail, even the floating underwear incident, though he left out what was inscribed on the undergarment. He was surprised Jim had even admitted it to him and he would not betray that confidence. He also left out the pranking that had been going on, and made out that the spiders were purely his fault; as Kirk had said, a science experiment gone awry. He didn't lie, though. He _implied_.

"As a result of all of this, we believe that more is going on with the Senali than they would have us believe. This, together with the Finnegan issue, leads me to request that we remain here until both situations are resolved, and delay or delegate our transport of the athletes and Odessa."

"You guys just never seem to catch a break," commented Sheridan ruefully. "I'll see what I can do, but those athletes are on a schedule. I'm not sure I'll be able to do anything. I will talk to the other Admirals."

"Your efforts are appreciated," said Spock formally.

"No problem. Anything for you, Spock. Kirk's lucky to have you as a First Officer."

"I am fortunate to have him as my Captain," countered Spock.

Meanwhile, Scotty was in his quarters, examining the chip, trying to determine its origin. Now that they were docked at a StarBase, his presence wasn't required in Engineering, and he had plenty of time to investigate. Besides, it gave him excuse to avoid Naliim, not that he needed to avoid her much longer. They were packing their bags and leaving the ship anytime now.

"Who could have planted this?" muttered Scotty. Who even had a motive, other than Mr. Spock? He had only tried to prank him. He'd pranked the Captain and McCoy, of course, but they'd gotten him back already, with the spiders. Maybe it was someone who wasn't at the meeting. Uhura? But why would she want to prank him? Maybe someone had pranked her, and thought it'd been him? This prank seemed more her style than anyone else's.

"Maybe she was in cahoots with someone and had them plant this when I was working on the Bridge," he speculated. Her request _had_ seemed rather trivial. He'd thought she'd just been bored and catching up on minor things, but maybe there had been more do it than that? Maybe she'd been distracting him? But he really had no proof. He'd have to check the computer logs. He plugged the chip into the computer, using his access codes to run a deeper scan of it.

It would take time, but he would get to the bottom of this!

Elsewhere on the ship, Jim decided to risk saying goodbye to Nilhadri and Naliim. Finnegan had been quiet for a few hours, and he had all of his embarrassing items in lockdown. What could happen in two minutes?

"I apologize for my absence during this trip. I assure you, it is not the policy of high ranking Starfleet officers to ignore such important guests!" Jim apologized sincerely. "To be honest, I hate being cooped up in my cabin, but like McCoy told you, I just wasn't feeling well!"

"I understand," said Nil. "I look forward to negotiations with your Admirals."

"I, too, have enjoyed my stay here," said Nal. "Commander Scott has been very generous with his time."

"I'll be sure to pass that along," said Jim. Come to think of it, why wasn't Scotty here?

"We must depart. Farewell, Captain Kirk." The pair exited the airlock, and Jim breathed a sigh of relief. Finnegan might still do something, but at least he wouldn't cause a diplomatic incident over it. He headed back to his quarters. Maybe he could take a crack at that data chip and the readings of that strange black object himself. He certainly had the time!

He opened the files and began scanning them. He didn't normally do this kind of thing anymore. The last time he had tackled something like this was when he'd been blinded, and melded with Spock. They'd found that gas the Klingons had released and saved the ship.

The gas! That is why these formulas seemed familiar. It reminded him of the strange composition of the new gas they'd found. Could there be a connection? Could that even be the code?

He entered in the specifications, and ran it against the code. Bingo! His eyes widened as he took in the implications of this. The Senali had developed the gas, and given it to the Klingons! Once the computer finished decoding, he opened the file and began to read.

Just then, his door buzzed. "Computer, who is it?"

"Working. Odessa of the Senali delegation."

"She never gives up," he muttered, rising. Before he reached the door, he heard a BANG! and a muffled thump right outside it. Jim frowned and hurriedly opened the door.

Odessa lay in front of the door, unconscious. Nobody was around. "Finnegan," he said, and felt his hair being tugged in response. "Kirk to Sickbay. Our resident poltergeist just knocked out our guest." So much for just targeting him!

They hauled her to Sickbay, where McCoy finally got to do his first complete examination of a Senali. When he finished, he came out, looking grim. "Jim, you're not gonna like this."

"I just cracked their files. I have a feeling I'm about to hear a lot of things I'm not going to like."

"I was right about the eyebrows, but that is just the beginning of what is fake about her! Her entire appearance seems to be fake, except for the fact that she is female. In reality, she is more similar to a reptile in appearance. Her only resemblance to a Vulcan is she possesses same strength."

"I've got to finish reading that file. I've got to find out why they decided to use that ruse." Jim accessed it from the Sickbay computer, reading intently. He would get to the bottom of this!

"What do we tell her when she wakes up?" questioned McCoy. "I can keep her sedated for a little while, but I don't know enough about her physiology to risk it much more."

"In a minute, Bones," said Jim, frowning intently at the screen.

Just then, Spock entered Sickbay. "Captain," he greeted him.

"Spock, I cracked the file, and I'm reviewing it now," said Jim shortly. This was important. If he would just quit being interrupted he could finish!

Finnegan seemed to agree. A pail of soapy water, previously by a biobed, was unceremoniously dumped over Spock's head. Spock stood there, frozen with surprise, slowly wiping his wet bangs from his eyes.

Jim cracked a smile despite himself. Now _that_ wasn't something you saw every day! Besides, maybe it was selfish, but it was kind of nice to not be the one picked on for once. He returned to his reading as McCoy offered the Vulcan towels and filled him in on everything.

Just then, Scotty entered Sickbay. "Captain – "

"Not now, Scotty!" McCoy hissed in warning before Finnegan could wreck his displeasure on the engineer as well.

Scotty took in the Captain's intense expression, McCoy's agitation, and – was Spock soaking wet? "Aye, I'll come back later, it can wait," Scotty assured them. He believed he found the perpetrator of the prank, and wanted to discuss it with the Captain, but it seemed more important things were going on. He turned and left. He could deal with Uhura himself!

He had just the prank. It'd be tit for tat! She'd think twice about disturbing his sleep again!

After Scotty walked out the door, McCoy called out, "Christine, make sure no one enters Sickbay unless it is a genuine emergency."

"Yes sir," she acquiesced, standing guard by the door.

Spock, now having changed his uniform, came and stood behind Kirk, reading rapidly over his shoulder. After a few more minutes, they finished and looked at each other gravely.

"Well, what's the verdict?" questioned McCoy.

"It seems they are, indeed, the makers of the gas that the Klingons released on our ship. There are specs for many similar gases, character profiles on all of us, as well as some very basic facts about Vulcans. It appears that Odessa was given instructions to befriend Captain Kirk, and to gain transport to the InterGalactic Olympics. For what purpose, we are not certain, but the logical conclusion is that she has a hostile mission. Given that she was denied access to Captain Kirk – "

"She got chummy with me instead," finished McCoy. "No wonder she was around so much! She could barely keep her hands off me. And Naliim, she was always with Scotty."

"She must have been ordered to find out as much about our technology as she could," concluded Jim. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"We must find out what they plan to do at the Olympics," stated Spock. "If we keep her on board, under close watch, we may discover the truth."

"Play dumb?" rephrased Jim.

"That would be a logical choice."

"Isn't that too risky?" argued McCoy. "We've seen how dangerous they are! Or have you forgotten about those destroyed ships and disturbed spirits? We should lock them up right now and demand the truth!"

So intent were they on their discussion that no one noticed the hypo floating behind McCoy until it was too late.

HISS!

McCoy started to fall. Jim leapt up and caught the unconscious man before he hit the ground.

"It would appear that Finnegan has made his opinion known," mused Spock as Kirk dragged his friend to a biobed.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think Finnegan is right. We're more likely to uncover to the whole plot if we watch as it unravels. When Odessa wakes up, I'll apologize to her and tell her I accidentally hit her when rushed out of my quarters. We won't say anything about what we learned here."

"Agreed," said Spock.

"We need to inform key personnel so they know to keep an eye on her."

"I will do so," said Spock. "I will also discuss the matter with Admiral Sheridan. He may decide to change our plans."

"You're right," admitted Jim. He'd been so frazzled lately that he'd forgotten about conferring with the Admiral first.

"I believe it would be best if you weren't present," said Spock meaningfully.

"You're right," repeated Jim, realizing he was actually talking about Finnegan. They didn't want the poltergeist to attack the Admiral too if he didn't like what he said!

"I will return soon. And Captain," continued Spock.

"What?"

"Watch out."

Jim looked up just in time for twenty rolls of toilet paper to come crashing down in his head.

* * *

That's it for today I think. I know what I'd like to do for the rest of the story now and I expect to finish it this week.


	14. Farts and Foghorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to britfanatic26, who helped with some of the ideas for the rest of this story!

Uhura gave her hair one last combing before climbing into bed. What a day! She didn't know the details of what had gone on with everyone, but she wasn't the head communications officer for nothing. She was a keen observer of people and didn't miss a thing. Something very strange was going on around the ship! More than usual, that is. Somehow, being docked at a StarBase had not alleviated the situation at all.

She settled deep under her covers and closed her eyes. But not for long!

TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!

Uhura shot out of bed in alarm. "What in the _world_ was _that_?" She held a hand over her heart, as if that would calm it from beating so fast. "It sounded like some kind of foghorn. But we don't have any of those on the ship!" Maybe someone next door had accidentally set off a computer program.

She settled back into bed, stretching out as far as she could. Sitting at that console all day sometimes gave her cramps.

TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!

She whipped to a sitting position, startled. "There it is again!" What was going _on_? "Lights."

She glanced around her quarters and out in the hall. All seemed normal. She checked with her neighbors, who'd thought they'd heard something from Uhura's quarters a few times, but that was it.

So. It was definitely coming from her quarters somewhere.

After the foghorn went off a few times more, she finally found it: a data chip in her closet! Obviously, someone had planted it there! "What in the _world?_ Who would do that? And why? It's like it's some sort of prank or something!" She thought she'd picked up some strange vibes among the bridge crew. Were they getting pranked too? That odd comment Chekov made to Scotty, almost as if he thought Scotty had something to do with his head getting shaved. Was Scotty pranking the other Bridge crew?

There was no use fretting about it tonight. She'd go to someone about it tomorrow. Maybe a security officer, or Mr. Spock. He always seemed to know what was going on and was willing to listen to her when she had an issue. The captain she knew to stay away from, for reasons unknown.

The next day, all senior officers, including Uhura this time, were invited to a meeting headed by Spock. The captain, once more, was conspicuously absent.

Spock brought everyone up to date on the information they'd gathered about the Senali, but left out everything with the poltergeist. Jim had a captain's image to maintain. They wouldn't be told about his problems unless it became necessary. "We all must stay vigilant, but keep an aura of welcome. There is no solid proof of her hostility, but her clandestine nature makes it logical to be cautious. We will still transport the athletes, but we will not be solely responsible for them. The USS Troubadour will be joining us for added security. Are there any questions?"

"Mr. Spock, can I ask what is going on with the Captain?" questioned Uhura.

Spock considered this. He did not want to embarrass the captain, but all this secrecy and uncertainty wasn't good for crew morale either. "The Captain is attending to personal matters that also have their own connections with the Senali. It is very important that he remains undisturbed for this mission." He was getting ever closer to designing a containment field for Finnegan, but with everything going on, it was difficult to find the time to complete it. "If you find anything strange, anything out of the ordinary at all, please report it immediately."

"I had something strange happen last night," Uhura piped up again.

As Uhura rarely made these kinds of complaints, she had Spock's complete attention. "What happened?"

"A sound chip was placed in my closet, set to making foghorns sound at regular intervals. It was like it was a prank or something!"

Spock's brain whirred into motion. Could Finnegan have done it? It was possible. He'd shown in the past few days that Jim was no longer his sole target. Perhaps, in time, he would start wreaking havoc on the whole ship. "I believe I know what happened, but I cannot reveal it at this time."

"You do?" piped up Scotty in spite of himself. "Someone planted a recording of dripping water in my closet the other night!" The computer's records had made it look like Uhura had done it, but, perhaps he'd been mistaken? She'd seemed genuinely puzzled about being pranked back!

Chekov made to speak, and then stopped.

"Please tell us, Mr. Chekov," urged Spock.

"Well. Someone put pink dye in my shampoo. I thought it was you, Scotty!"

"I did not!" denied Scotty vehemently. "The captain said no more pranking! So I told Mr. Spock about the bottles!"

"We are aware of the prankster problem," said Spock. "Please report the incidents. Do not concern yourself with their origin. The captain and I are working out the solution."

Scotty, Chekov, and Uhura looked at each other. That was easy for Spock to say! _He_ wasn't the one getting pranked. He wasn't being kept up at night and didn't have to shave _his_ head!

"You are dismissed."

The rest of the morning was spent welcoming the various alien athletes on board and getting them settled in. Scotty headed to Engineering to prepare for departure and to train the new crew members he'd picked up at the Starbase. McCoy entertained Odessa in Sickbay and Spock gave the athletes a tour of the ship, ending with the Bridge.

Jim entered the Bridge soon after, to the surprise of everyone. "Uhura, call Scotty up here," he said. "I want all senior officers present for the conference with the Troubadour."

"Captain!" said Uhura with a delighted smile, before summoning Scotty, who arrived a few minutes later.

Jim smiled back. This had been a good decision. He'd wanted to address the Troubadour before takeoff, and he knew the crew needed to see their captain out and about every so often, for morale's sake. Finnegan had left him alone so far during official Starfleet business. He should be fine.

So, in front of the Olympic contenders and his entire Bridge crew, he opened the connection to the other ship. "Captain Mayhew! Good to see you," he greeted the balding man who appeared on the screen.

"Captain Kirk! Long time, no see."

"I'm looking forward to our mission – "

FART!

Jim stopped mid-sentence, utterly humiliated. _Finnegan._ "As I was saying," he continued, hoping they didn't think it was him, though Finnegan had done a good job of making it sound like it was. He didn't know that he could make noise. Did that mean he was getting stronger? "It will be my pleasure to work with you – "

FART!

Jim fought to keep his composure. "I ah, hope it's the first of many – "

FART!

Spock stepped in and made a gesture toward Uhura, who, though very confused, obligingly added in background static.

"Captain, our schedule is tight. It is best we get underway."

"Yes. Kirk – "

FART!

Out."

"Captain, a word." Spock uncharacteristically grabbed Jim by the arm and pulled him off the Bridge into the lift. Jim sagged against him. "I don't care what you have to do to do it, Spock – "

"Understood," Spock cut in. "I will not stop until it is accomplished."

"Put Scotty in charge in the meantime."

Scotty would not be happy to he pulled away from Engineering for that long, but he would just have to deal. "Yes, Captain." He touched his badge. "Spock to Scotty. You have command until further notice."

"Aye, Mr. Spock," replied Scotty.

"Spock, have I ever mentioned that you're the best officer in the Fleet?" Jim asked, looking up at his friend. "I didn't know Finnegan could make noise on his own. He must be getting stronger." He paced in embarrassed agitation. "I'm never going to live this down!"

"Humans are mutable. They will forget today's incident in due time. Perhaps, in light of this event, it would be better to reveal to them the truth."

"Just, do as you see fit. I'm going to my quarters and attempt to teleport to the other side of the galaxy."

Spock raised a brow, but let the illogic pass this time. "Very well, Captain."

"Call me Jim."

"Yes, Jim."

Jim smiled, strangely reassured, and went inside his quarters. Spock set off to his science lab to get to work on his trap for Finnegan. Now that he was relieved of all other duties, he should be able to finish much more efficiently. He'd discovered radiation that could form a barrier that Finnegan could not cross, but touching it was also dangerous to humans, so he couldn't flood the ship with it. He would have to make a special suit for the Captain and a cage that could hover and produce the necessary radiation, with force fields to contain it. Tricky work, and it never had been done before. He had his work cut out for him. He would worry about explanations to the crew later. He had to contain that poltergeist before anything worse happened.

Meanwhile, Bridge decorum had gone up in smoke.

"Not a word out of any of you!" Scotty told the athletes, who looked ready to mock the Captain. Scotty gestured to a security officer. "Ensign, please escort our guests to their quarters."

"Yes, Commander," agreed the ensign, who looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or be uncomfortable.

Once they were gone, the Bridge officers crowded around the captain's chair.

"What do we do now?" wondered Uhura.

"Well, we still have to have that conference with the Troubadour," said Scotty. "First things first." Uhura obligingly reopened the connection to the other ship. "Commander Scott here, are you ready to depart?"

Scotty and the other Enterprise officers were greeted with the sight of the other crew barely containing their laughter at them. "I'll say _you_ guys are!" said Captain Mayhew mockingly. "You should have enough gas to power your Starship!" Troubadour's crew broke out in snickers.

The Enterprise crew bristled. "Let's not forget we have a potentially dangerous mission on our hands!" Scotty reminded them heatedly.

"Of course," said Mayhew, though he didn't sober up much.

"Right now, it's only dangerous to Kirk's pants!" someone called out off screen.

"Now, now, ensign," Mayhew chided without heat. "We can't all have the best crew in the fleet."

Oh, so he wanted to play _that_ game, did he? "We'll see about that, sir," said Scotty, his "sir" heavy with sarcasm. "We're set to go."

"After you."

"Scott out."

Scotty turned to the seething Bridge crew.

"I can't believe what they said about us!" ranted Chekov. "The nerve of them!"

Even stoic Sulu was furious. "They had no right to treat us that way!"

"We should do something," said Uhura.

They all looked at Scotty.

"They're not making us the laughing stock of Starfleet! Best crew in the fleet, indeed. We'll see about that. Won't we?" Scotty said to them.

"Aye, aye, commander!" they agreed.

"I have just the thing. It will take all of our skill sets, but we'll teach them to make fools out of us! First, though, we must get underway. Chekov?"

"Yes, commander," responded the navigator, punching in the coordinates for the Olympic planet.

"Engage!"

Warp drive kicked into gear. Once they confirmed the other ship was following, Scotty had the Bridge crew gather around again. "All right, here's what we're going to do…"


	15. Deaf, Dumb, and Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should mention, once again, that I stole most of my prank ideas from Smenzer. The Deaf, Dumb, and Blind one was especially memorable and I just had to do my own version!

Captain Mayhew was sitting in his chair on the Bridge, cracking yet another joke about flatulence, when he was interrupted.

"Captain Mayhew, this is Admiral Nogura. I have found something that you need to see! Bring your best science and communications officers!"

"Very well, Admiral," he said, choking back his laughter. He wished he didn't have to transport the Admiral, but so far, this trip had surpassed his expectations. Maybe it wasn't so bad. "We'll be right there." He gestured for a few crewmen to come along. They followed him obligingly.

They found Nogura in a hallway a few levels down with a very strange looking alien! "Look at what materialized! Captain, we may have discovered new alien life!" It'd been so long since he'd done field work. He'd forgotten how exciting it was! Now was his chance for some action. "It's been making strange noises ever since it appeared."

Mayhew gestured to his communications officer, who obediently took out his universal translator. All that came out were random beeps, so he spent a few minutes adjusting it. Then they heard:

"Help. Deaf. Dumb. Blind. Help." It kept repeating in a loop.

"What are you waiting for? Get your chief medical officer here!" urged Nogura.

"Yes. Doctor Wencl, come to hall C12. Ensign, take some scans. Try to find out where the alien came from."

The ensign whipped out her tricorder, frowning. "It appears to have routed itself through our transporters somehow, Captain. Where it came from before that, I'm not sure."

"Maybe it's from subspace!" exclaimed Nogura excitedly. He'd never encountered one of those aliens before.

Dr. Wencl arrived, medkit and scanners in hand.

"Find out what's wrong with it," ordered Nogura.

Mayhew did his best to swallow his resentment. _He_ was in command on this ship! He should be the one giving orders and overseeing exciting discoveries like this. Damn Admirals. He should have lobbied to have Odessa and the Olympians come on his ship instead.

"It is organic," said Wencl. "Seems to be almost plantlike. I will have to do more in depth scans to make sense of it."

"Proceed," said Nogura eagerly.

Meanwhile, Spock was making his finishing touches on the trap for Finnegan. He would need to get it inside Jim's quarters and have him put on the suit without making the poltergeist suspicious, but if he enlisted Dr. McCoy's help, he should have no problems.

Dr. McCoy was more than happy to deliver the items to Jim under the ruse that he wished to conduct an experiment in regards to the Senali's gases, so they could learn more about them. After that, he set up some transmitters outside each wall of Jim's room to emit the needed radiation when activated.

Jim put on the suit, and then opened the makeshift cage, supposedly "releasing" the gas. In reality, he was triggering the trap. Please work, he thought. He was getting tired of Finnegan's cackling.

"What's this, Jimmy boy? What's going on?" said Finnegan. Obviously, he'd sensed something lethal closing in on him. "This won't work! You can't get me!"

The radiation slowly flooded the room – everywhere, except the cage.

"This won't work, Jimmy boy!" swore Finnegan, even as he had no choice but to enter the confinement.

Jim snapped it shut and flipped the switch, as McCoy had instructed him earlier.

"You can't keep me in here forever, Jimmy boy! I will come out and make today seem like nothing!"

"Not today, you won't," said Jim with deep satisfaction. He flipped on his comm. "Spock, it appears to have worked."

"Good. I will be right there to make the final adjustments and arrangements."

Jim breathed out a huge sigh of relief. Finally he could go back on duty! Though, he was still mighty embarrassed. Maybe waiting another day wouldn't be so bad. Or two. Or three.

The door buzzed.

"Come in, Spock," said Jim. But it wasn't Spock. It was Odessa!

"I thought you were in Sickbay," Jim blurted without thinking.

"I wanted to see how you were. I heard you were on the Bridge?" she said, her eyes wide with concern.

Fake concern, Jim thought. "I'm fine, all is well."

"What is that?" she asked curiously, pointing to the box. Finnegan was, thankfully, silent.

"One of Spock's experiments," he said. Best to stick as close to the truth as possible. "He wanted me to keep an eye on it for him." Hurry up and get here, Spock!

As if summoned by his thoughts, Spock stepped through the door seconds later, raising a brow at Odessa's presence. He'd barely entered when McCoy rushed in behind him.

"Captain, I – there you are!" said McCoy, seeing Odessa. "I wondered where you went off to!" That sneaky reptile.

"I was concerned about the Captain!" she said defensively.

"Yes, well, we need to leave him and Mr. Spock so they can get to work," insisted McCoy.

"I am a scientist. I might be of assistance," she countered.

"You misunderstand. We are merely transporting it to a holding cell to be kept under guard. We will not be doing further work with it until after the Olympics and I do not wish it tampered with," explained Spock.

"In that case. Lead on, Leonard," she said. She followed the doctor out the door without further protest.

"She is still trying to get to you," observed Spock.

"Let's worry about that later. I want to make sure Finnegan is secure before we decide what to do next," said Jim. They hauled it to a cell and left it there with strict instructions for it to be kept under guard 24/7. "I can't tell you how relieved I am," said Jim. "You are a lifesaver, Mr. Spock."

"Now that Finnegan is secure, we must return to the Bridge," Spock pointed out.

Jim hesitated. He wasn't quite ready to face them yet. "I think I'll relieve Dr. McCoy. He's probably tired of babysitting duty."

"Very well. I will see you later then, Captain." Spock strode to the Bridge to relieve Scotty. He was sure the man would be quite pleased to return to Engineering. When he arrived, he said, "You may return to Engineering. I will take over from here. Also, I must inform you that the Captain is back on duty."

"Yes, sir," said Scotty uneasily. He hadn't counted on Spock returning so soon!

Just then, McCoy entered the Bridge. "The Captain's with Odessa," he informed them. "What's going on up here? Anything interesting? I've been out of the loop."

"I will take my leave now, sir," said Scotty quickly. He didn't want to be there for this conversation!

"Eh, we are now on our way to the Olympic planet, sir," said Chekov when no one volunteered. "Scotty made the conference call to the Troubadour to coordinate our departure. That is all." He doubted Spock would be impressed with their prank.

"Very well, ensign. Carry on." Spock took the Captain's seat. "Dr. McCoy, do you not have physicals to attend to?" The doctor had agreed to help the athletes stay in tip top shape.

"I finished them," he said.

"Commander, there is a call from the Troubadour!" Uhura said.

"Very well, lieutenant. Patch it through."

None other than Admiral Nogura appeared on the screen. "Commander Spock! I have news that will interest you!"

"Admiral Nogura. What is it that you wish to tell me?"

"We have found a new alien! It routed itself through our transporter and appeared here about a half hour ago. I have contacted Starfleet and thought you should be informed."

Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu exchanged disbelieving looks.

"Have you established communication with the alien?" asked Spock.

"No. It has a chip in a communication loop saying: Deaf. Dumb. Blind. Help."

Uhura covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Chekov and Sulu had similar problems.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Do you need assistance?"

"No, but if you want to come over to have a look, feel free!" said Nogura, eager to show off his find.

"Very well," replied Spock, to the crew's horror. Spock was the most intelligent officer in the Fleet. He would see through the prank in seconds flat! "I will beam over shortly. Scotty to the Bridge. You have the conn."

"Very well," said Scotty. He'd barely made it back to Engineering! Ah, well. Such was life on the Enterprise!

"I will accompany you, Spock, I have nothing better to do," said McCoy, just when they thought it couldn't get any worse.

After Spock and the CMO left, the Bridge erupted.

"We are in trouble!" said Chekov. They had no idea that the Troubadour would be so stupid as to take their prank this seriously! They thought a few ensigns might examine it, realize it was fake, then be unable to figure out where it came from, and have the crew spend a lot of time chasing their tails.

"I can't believe they don't recognize my plant! My hybrid isn't _that_ rare," complained Sulu.

"Their communications officer should have recognized the spin I put on Morse code," Uhura mused.

Scotty entered the Bridge.

"Scotty, we have a problem!" said Chekov. He outlined the current situation.

"Heh! Best crew in the Fleet huh? They can't even recognize a plant!" Scotty sneered.

"Spock is going to figure it out! What are we going to do?" said Chekov.

"We'll just have to take it one step at a time," said Scotty calmly. "I'm not sure even Spock will be able to tell what I did to the transporters. No one knew you were breeding that plant, right?"

"No," said Sulu.

"There, see? He might not figure it out." Fingers crossed!

Meanwhile, on the Troubadour, Spock was poking holes in their theories left and right, with McCoy's help. "I believe the only logical conclusion is that this is no alien at all, but merely a plant hybrid. I do not currently know how or why it appeared here in this manner, but I will find out." Considering the various talents that had to have been involved, he had a solid theory, and he wished to deal with the matter himself.

Nogura was beside himself with embarrassment, as were the crew of the Troubadour! "This is an outrage! I want the perpetrator _found_ and _banished_ from Starfleet!"

Spock disagreed with such a drastic measure. No harm had been done. If nothing else, the Troubadour had learned a valuable lesson in logic. "That would be against regulation. However, I will find the ones responsible and punish them accordingly."

"See that you do!" Nogura spat.

"With your permission, I will return to my ship. Nothing else can be learned here. Dr. McCoy?"

"I'm ready to leave."

"Dismissed!" said Nogura.

Spock and McCoy beamed back to the Bridge. Spock was greeted with the guilty faces of his fellow officers. "Gentlemen, I made a most peculiar discovery," he informed them. "Do you care to shed light on the subject?"

"Admit it!" said McCoy. "We know you did it! Who else would have the engineering genius to make it look like they beamed it on the ship themselves? Who else breeds rare plants? Who else could rig a convincing language transmission? Who else could design the alien to look anything near convincing?"

He was met with silence.

"Why did you do it?" persisted McCoy.

"You didn't hear how they were talking about the Captain and this crew after the, well, incident this morning! And we had no idea they would take it so seriously!" said Scotty, realizing the ruse was up. They did not think it through very well, but in their defense, they hadn't much time.

"Their illogic was indeed, unprecedented among humans. However, Admiral Nogura was involved. Your conduct was unfitting for Starfleet officers. You are all confined to your quarters until we reach the planet. The Captain will be informed. Uhura, call for replacements before you leave." It was a mild punishment, all in all. The Captain would be relieved to hear that he was no longer the laughingstock of Starfleet. Some good would come of this. He was… not unsympathetic to their cause.

They obeyed him with minimal grumbling. When Scotty entered his quarters, he immediately began pacing. That darn Nogura! How was he supposed to know that lout was so dumb! If he was embarrassed, it was his own fault! "I have to get him back!" thought Scotty. If it hadn't been for him, he'd be back in Engineering now. Pranking the Admiral would be difficult. "Maybe an opportunity will arise once we reach the planet," he mused. Yes, that is exactly what he would do!


	16. Bumper Stickers and Pumpkin Pants

It wasn't until an uneventful first week on the planet had passed that Scotty got his chance. They were at a celebratory dinner for the Orion team that had won many of the events. The Engineer caught Admiral Nogura parking his rented hovercar near the door. He waited until he saw the man go inside before setting up his prank. "He'll never know what hit him!" gloated Scotty. This would teach him to be more observant!

Whistling innocently, he went inside to mingle with the rest of the Starfleet entourage. If he was lucky, he might see the results of his prank!

A few hours later, after the eating was over, Scotty came upon Sarek, Spock's father. "Are yeh all right there sir?" he asked him. He was looking a bit green – not surprising considering his physiology, but green, even for him!

"Mr. Scott," Sarek greeted. "The wine I consumed does not "agree" with me, as you humans say."

"Why don't yeh go home? I'm sure everyone will understand!" said Scotty. If they didn't, well, he'd just have a few things to say to them about that!

"The Orion Ambassador, who drove me here, left already. I do not have a ride," Sarek explained. The Orion had found "company" and forgot about their traveling arrangements.

"Did you say something about a ride?" said Admiral Nogura, coming up behind Scotty. "Excuse my eavesdropping, but you may borrow my hovercar and return it tomorrow. I can easily hitch a ride with Mayhew." The hovercar had been an indulgence really. Plus it made it easier to avoid certain Starfleet members who were still laughing about the fake alien incident. But for the Ambassador, he could do without it for one night!

Scotty's stomach dropped in horror. "No need for that Admiral! He can just borrow mine!"

"Nonsense! Ambassador, I insist. Here are my keys! I hope you feel better soon."

Scotty could do nothing but watch helplessly as Sarek strode to the door.

Normally Sarek was quite sharp and missed nothing. However, he really was feeling quite ill, so he never noticed Scotty's addition to the hovercar as he climbed in and started the engine. After a few minutes on the road, the comm rang.

Sarek frowned slightly. It wasn't his comm. Should he answer it? Yet, the Admiral was an important man. It was logical to conclude that it could be very important. Sarek decided it would be wise to err on the side of caution. "This is Ambassador Sarek. How may I assist you?"

"Oh, I _love_ a polite, respectful man! You are a cutie!"

Up went Sarek's eyebrow.

"So, do you like spring or summer weddings? I'm not a winter wedding person myself, but we can talk about it if you have your heart set on it."

"Madam, I do not understand your inquiry. What is the purpose?"

Laughter rang through the comm. "You want a wife!"

"I have a wife," said Sarek, growing more confused by the second.

"So? I'm Denobulan! I've always wanted to marry a Vulcan! Such strong, silent types!"

"I'm afraid, madam, that I have to decline. Live long and prosper." He cut the connection.

Not a minute later, the comm rang again. Sarek answered it, hoping it was something important this time. "Ambassador Sarek speaking."

"Hey gorgeous! How about we ditch our speeders and go get married right now? I'm sure you will love having a Betazoid wedding!"

What was all this talk of weddings? "I have to decline. I am already married." Though he privately thought a Betazoid and Vulcan child would be fascinating, he would never leave Amanda. "I do not feel well, so I will have to cut this short. Live long and prosper." He wasn't lying. His head was indeed beginning to pound.

The comm rang again.

Sarek, of course, did not feel fear, but he did admit to reexamining the logic of answering the comm again. He hoped this one would finally be important. At this rate, he'd settle for a call that made sense! "Ambassador Sarek."

"Oh, an Ambassador! How attractive!"

"If you are inquiring about nuptials, I am not available," said Sarek preemptively. Why in the world was Nogura getting these calls? Was it normal for an Admiral? He would have to ask him.

"Why does it say you're looking for a wife then?"

"To what are you referring?"

"Your bumper of course! It says you want a wife, and I'm applying!"

"Is that how you got this comm number?" asked Sarek suspiciously.

"Well of course! How else would I have gotten it?"

"My apologies for the confusion. I am merely borrowing this speeder. Perhaps if you give me your comm number, I will pass it on to Admiral Nogura for you. He is the normal operator of this vehicle."

"An _Admiral_? Even better!" she enthused.

Sarek dutifully memorized her comm number to write down later. Such strange mating traditions humans had! The Vulcan way was far simpler.

The comm buzzed again.

By the time Sarek made it home, he had ten numbers to give to Nogura. He wrote them all down in a note that he left on the seat for when the Admiral picked up the vehicle in the morning. He sincerely wished the Admiral "luck" in finding a suitable mate.

Sarek reflected that, while unconventional, it was a highly effective method of attracting a potential mate. He'd have to recommend it to other Starfleet personnel. Unless it was a common practice? He would find out. The scientist in him was very curious.

In the meantime, however, he really had to get some sleep!

Late the next day, Admiral Nogura waved to Mayhew amicably as the Starfleet Captain dropped him off by his hovercar. Another great day at the Olympics! Despite the potential danger from the Senali, so far, everything had gone smoothly. The excitement of the first ever Intergalatic Olympics had even started to wipe that embarrassing alien incident from everyone's minds. Things were looking up!

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he saw nothing out of the ordinary until he almost sat on Sarek's note. "How nice, he left me a thank you note," said Nogura, pulling it out from underneath him so he could read it. His chest swelled with pride. Everyone would admire his skills at keeping good relations with the Vulcans!

His smug pleasure soon faded to confusion, however, as he read the list of comm numbers. "What's this? Potential mates? Is Sarek trying to set me up? What's this about a bumper sticker?"

The Admiral jumped out of the car and peered around to the back, almost scared to look. As he feared, there was a bumper sticker that read: "I'm looking for a wife! Please comm 555-567-4598!"

"What the hell?" he muttered. How did it get there? Now Sarek seemed to think he needed to resort to desperate measures for a date! Worse, he would go around telling everyone! He had sounded so intrigued about it. Nogura knew that Vulcan could not keep his mouth shut when he was curious about human idiosyncrasies! "I should have picked up my car immediately. Who knows how many people he's told by now!"

Who would do this to him? Had people really lost all respect for him? "I'm never going to live this down!" He would find the perpetrator somehow!

But first, he had to get that damn thing off his bumper!

Unfortunately for Nogura, the news spread fast. In fact, that very next evening, Scotty, Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu sat in a restaurant, howling with laughter, with a bemused Spock looking on at the spectacle.

"I can't believe it! Who would have the nerve to do that to the Admiral?" Chekov's voice was approving rather than indignant.

"It was brilliant, whoever it was!" agreed Sulu.

Scotty busied himself with his drink, hoping nobody would notice his guilty expression. After all, it would be a shame to waste good Scotch!

"To good times!" said Uhura.

Everyone toasted, even Spock, though he heeded his father's advice in not drinking the wine.

"MURDER! SOMEONE'S BEEN MURDERED!" came a hysterical voice out of his badge. Spock had to pause a moment before he could identify the voice: Dr. McCoy. It was very strange. Normally, the doctor announced deaths with a sedate, "He's dead, Jim." "What happened?" inquired Spock calmly.

"MURDER! MURDER!"

Perhaps the good doctor had too much to drink? Still, he better investigate the matter. "I will beam up shortly."

"I'll settle the tab," offered Scotty, relieved Spock was leaving. If anyone could figure out that he was responsible for the bumper sticker, it was Spock!

"Very well. One to beam up to Sickbay."

Spock materialized seconds later to find the doctor running around Sickbay, howling, "MURDER!" repeatedly, while Jim lay on a biobed, zoned out. Spock took his pulse, just in case. "He has not been murdered. He has merely gone into a trance, similar to the Vulcan healing trance." He must have picked it up from his time with Spock's katra. Why would he have gone into it?

"MURDER!" McCoy insisted.

"Where is Odessa?" asked Spock, hoping McCoy would snap out of it. McCoy had nothing sensible to say on the subject, so he took the next logical step. "Computer, locate Odessa."

"Working. Odessa is not on the Enterprise."

Spock froze in alarm for a split second, before recovering. "Last known location?"

"Transporter room one."

"Destination?"

"Unknown."

He turned towards his fellow officers, theorizing that Odessa had injected them with something, or made them inhale something to incapacitate them while she escaped. It seemed she had made her move at last, and right now, the captain and the doctor most likely knew more about how to find her than anyone. He had to undo what she'd done.

Spock gave McCoy a mild sedative and roused Jim. McCoy finally sat down, and Jim sat up, struggling for composure. "What happened?" he asked. "Why do I feel so agitated?"

"What do you remember?" asked Spock.

"Well, I went down to Sickbay to relieve McCoy of babysitting duty so he could join the crew in the restaurant. Then it all gets fuzzy," admitted Jim.

"I don't… remember you arriving," said McCoy.

"Odessa has escaped. You must try to remember," urged Spock.

"It's no good," said Jim. "Can you recover the memories with a mind meld?"

"It is likely," Spock informed him.

"Then, go ahead. You too, doctor," Jim urged. "We _must_ find out what happened so we can locate her! Who knows what she is doing!"

They all sobered at the thought.

Jim and McCoy made room for Spock between them on the biobed. Spock carefully reached his arms around them to join his fingers to their psi points. It would be most efficient to do a three way meld.

Spock had never experienced so turbulent a meld. Emotion, intuition, and logic fought for dominance, fought for perspective. "Focus," he said. "Focus on the last hour. You walked down to Sickbay."

"Yes," murmured Jim, reliving it.

"You opened the door. You saw McCoy pinned to a biobed by Odessa. You froze, wondering if you were interrupting… anything."

"Yes."

"You heard her talking. She was telling McCoy that by the time he woke up, it would be too late. She will have gassed everyone. She'd known that he'd discovered her plot, but it didn't matter, because she'd won anyway."

"Yes."

"McCoy. You discovered her container of concentrated gas. She was making some final adjustments to it, believing you would come back later than you did."

"Yes," confirmed McCoy.

"You tried to stop her, but she was much stronger than you. You tried to delay her as much as possible, knowing Jim was on the way. You hoped that he would take her by surprise and get the situation under control."

"Yes."

"Upon seeing the captain, however, she released the smaller vial of gas and fled, incapacitating you both."

"Yes."

Spock released them from the meld.

"She could be anywhere! Even if we alerted the authorities, how will we find her and stop her in time?" worried Jim.

"It appears, Captain, there is but one logical solution. We must release Finnegan."

"What? No!"

"There is no one able to search more quickly, nor more effectively, than the poltergeist. He has proven himself loyal to Starfleet and aided us against the Senali. He has proven himself powerful enough to stop her effectively. We must do it, Jim."

"Hate to say it, Jim, but Spock's right. Too much is at stake," said McCoy.

Jim looked into the faces of his friends and sighed internally. The last thing in the entire world he wanted was to release that menace. But… "You're right, gentlemen. Spock, he's shown you the most respect. Can you do it?"

"Yes, Captain. I would suggest you make yourself scarce."

"No need to tell me twice!" agreed Jim, marching off to the transporter room. McCoy accompanied Spock to the holding cell, but stayed back. He doubted he would be a welcome sight either. Finnegan probably wouldn't realize that Spock had made the trap, but he'd known that McCoy had set it.

Spock lowered the forcefield, then stood in front of the box and explained the situation to Finnegan. "Ensign Finnegan, if you have any loyalty left in you for the Federation, you _must_ do this. You must stop her!" With that, there was nothing left to do but open the box.

"Hm, wise words for an elf man!" cackled Finnegan.

"Will you help us?" asked Spock.

"Only if _he_ wears pumpkin pants!" bargained Finnegan with glee, obviously meaning McCoy.

Which was how, minutes later, Spock and McCoy beamed down to the planet, the latter clad in pumpkin pants. Only for the Federation…

"Don't ask!" he grumpily said to Jim when he found him, minutes later, with the rest of the Enterprise crew.

"No need," said Jim, struggling to keep a straight face, despite the grim situation.

They waited tensely. Would Finnegan live up to his side of the bargain? Would he really save the Federation, or was this one last, terrible prank?


	17. The End.

If Jim Kirk were to spend any time guessing what his future held, this would have never made the list.

He stood at the podium, awkwardly tugging at his dress uniform, glancing down at his notes. Usually he preferred to do speeches without them, but this one was particularly difficult. He needed all the help he could get!

“Today we are here to honor an ensign who became an unlikely hero. I met him at the Academy. Our relationship could be described as competitive.” To say the least! “He was the class comedian. Life was never dull with him around!

Time passed; he graduated and got assigned to a ship. It wasn’t long until tragedy struck. Like many unfortunate ships in this sector, it fell victim to a Senali gas experiment. Everyone in the crew died, including Finnegan. However, his essence continued, too full of life to be destroyed. While his crewmates turned to hatred, nothing could destroy his prankster spirit.

Or so it seemed. As you all now know, a few days ago, he saved us all from a sinister plot by the Senali. They planned to undertake the ultimate experiment: to test a gas they believed would neutralize all species present here. Our scientists all agree that had they not been stopped, they would have succeeded.

In saving us, he was destroyed himself. No one can forget his dying scream, or the silence and stillness that followed. I wish to honor that sacrifice today made by an unlikely hero – Sean Finnegan!”

Everyone clapped and cheered, even McCoy in his pumpkin pants. He only wore them to honor Finnegan’s final request. After today, he’d never wear the horrible thing again!

Jim stepped down from the podium and sat with McCoy and Spock. The few people there who knew Finnegan personally then stepped up and shared stories. Nobody there seemed particularly sad. But that was probably how the troublemaker preferred it.

Jim’s mind wandered. As trouble filled as his days had been lately, it felt strange for him to be free from them all at once. What luxury it was to just sit here, undisturbed, without fear of being randomly, mortally embarrassed!

Meanwhile, McCoy was trying to chat up Spock. He felt strange ever since the mind meld, like something had shifted in their relationship. He’d learned things about Spock he’d never suspected, and it was taking time to process them. “So. It’s all over.”

“Indeed,” said Spock.

“Now we can all go back to normal. Or whatever passes for normal in these parts!” McCoy conceded. Life was really never “normal” aboard the Enterprise. “Something extraordinary always seems to be happening.”

“Indeed,” repeated Spock.

“Is that all you have to say?” asked McCoy.

“What would you have me say, doctor?” queried Spock.

“How about how relieved you are that Jim’s troubles are over? Or, what about how concerned you were when I wasn’t myself? You might hide it, but you’ve got quite the emotional thunderstorm under there, Spock! I was wrong about you, weeks ago, when I said you’d never understand emotions. You just would like us to believe that you don’t!”

“I do not have to possess the emotions to understand them,” Spock argued.

“But you _do_ “possess” them Spock! Don’t forget, that meld of yours goes two ways! I know how you really feel about me.”

“In this case, three ways. It being your first time, it is easy to see how you became confused about your experience.”

“I know you, Spock,” McCoy said, poking him lightly. “You don’t fool me!”

“That is an illogical conclusion, since I already have.” Spock’s mouth made the barest quirk.

“Oh, you green-blooded hobgoblin! On the contrary, it shows that you did care. Didn’t it? You pranked the Captain to help with his stress. Isn’t it _logical_ to conclude you were doing the same for me?”

“I believe it is time for us to go,” Spock evaded.

While the Enterprise crew was indeed getting up to leave for the reception, McCoy knew it for the dodge it was. Nonetheless, he decided to let it go. His point had been made. Not bad for a guy wearing pumpkin pants!

That night, Jim Kirk reminisced about the past several weeks, starting with the burping computer, ending with today’s funeral. Most people sat down and watched TV to get entertainment. With him, there was no need – his life was never dull!

He reached for his box of mementos. He was pretty sure he still had a hologram in there somewhere of the one time he’d managed to prank Finnegan good. He opened the box…

…and out popped a snake!

“AH!” Jim screeched in surprise, his voice going up in pitch like a girl’s. He clamped a hand over his traitorous mouth, glad no one was there to hear it. “Looks like Finnegan left me one last surprise!”

He stared into the eyes of the obviously fake reptile. It reminded him of the Senali’s true appearance, which had been revealed after Odessa’s capture. Interrogating her revealed the Senali’s plot to take over the entire quadrant without firing a single shot. So much disaster had been avoided with the aid of Finnegan!

“Maybe there is something oddly noble about his attitude. Maybe all that troublemaking challenged us to be the best we could be. Maybe being kept on our toes forced us to heights we never would have reached without it. Maybe that is the only way to defeat forces like the Senali.”

Jim would never condone a full blown, all out prank war amongst his crew. Professionalism was important, and needed to be maintained. But perhaps a prank every now and then wouldn’t hurt anybody. Maybe they could even have an official pranking week during particularly dull star mapping expeditions. He would talk it over with his senior staff. He had a feeling that Scotty would be particularly amendable. He’d never tell a soul, but he’d seen him put the bumper sticker on the Admiral’s hovercar. Nogura still had no idea who’d done it! He had no idea his Chief Engineer was so devious. He’d have to watch out for him for sure!

But, in the meantime – and Jim never thought he’d say this – he was looking forward to a nice, quiet evening of paperwork, uninterrupted by the shenanigans of late.

For the first time in weeks, that is exactly what he got.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know! :)


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